Interest
by Missed Nin
Summary: The story of Nara Shikamaru, host of the demon Kyuubi. The laziest jinchuuriki in history is faced with the threat of Akatsuki, and Konoha isn't at all willing to help him defend against them. [sequel to Indifference]
1. Attracting Interest

This is a sequel. Either read Indifference first, or if you for some reason want to read this instead (or you forgot what happened) read the crappy synopsis.

Synopsis of Indifference: Shikamaru, host of the demon Kyuubi, was challenged by Gaara several times during the Chuunin Exams, (which the lazy shadow-user dropped out of in the preliminaries, defeated by Naruto). When the Sound and Sand attacked Konoha, Shikamaru led Teams Seven and Ten, who defeated Kankuro. Together, he and Naruto fought and defeated Gaara and the Shukaku. However, he used the Kyuubi's chakra to do this, and his appearance was altered as a result. Sensing the feared demon's energy, the council - now without the moderating influence of Sandaime Hokage - kidnapped Shikamaru and kept him drugged. Fortunately, Asuma rescued him, moved to do so by his worried friends and family. At the end of the story, Shikamaru was watching clouds with Ino and Chouji, three days after the invasion.

* * *

I don't own Naruto (O RLY?). I do have a tendency to swear, for which I apologise in advance. If you're offended by occasional mentions of homosexuality, you may occasionally have to take offence.

* * *

Interest

* * *

Shikamaru found it hard to go back home, but he'd be late for dinner if he didn't leave. He returned to the Nara house, trying to suppress nervous apprehension of his parents' reactions. 

When he reached the house, his mother ran at him and embraced him, concern and joy painfully clear in her eyes. Her arms around him felt both fragile and strong, and she shut her eyes as she held him. But he was looking forward _into_ the house, and he met his father's eyes even as he raised one arm and put it around his mother's back. He felt more conscious of his appearance than he ever had before in that long second: twisted-sharp-nailed hand against Yoshino's back, red eyes watching Shikaku over her shoulder. Shikamaru shut his eyes.

Yoshino stepped back, pulling him behind her into the kitchen. She began serving up a meal as her daughter and husband took their places, and Shikamaru sat, looking down.

"It's okay, son" Shikaku said.

Shikamaru looked up.

"I'm..." The older Nara shook his head, slapped one hand on the table, then continued in a tight voice: "I was worried about you. It's good to have you back."

"Thanks" Shikamaru said. And set in a smiling face his ruby eyes seemed charming, not unnerving.

Rumiko grinned happily to herself - problem solved.

* * *

Ino came to call on her team-mate on the afternoon of the next day. The three-day period of mourning after Sandaime's funeral was over, so she had one aim alone: take Shikamaru shopping. 

_This is not good_. The Shadow-user had been kidnapped once, he had no intention of being mobbed by villagers, whether they were Ino's friends or his enemies. But then again, he'd decided to accept who and what he was. There was no advantage to avoiding town, he needed to assert himself and show his face there.

So he agreed to go along.

"You see, that shade of green just does not go with claret!"

"Claret?"

"The colour of your eyes, dipshit. I thought a genius like you would know these things, Shika-kun, you're slipping!"

She was unusually hyper, which was strange. Earlier she'd been dispirited, complaining about Naruto being absent, because this meant Sakura had time to win over Sasuke.

"It's a type of red wine, I didn't know you could use it as a colour" He said, absent-minded. It was strange, re-adjusting to life after the Kyuubi. Or, after being changed by the Kyuubi. The thing's influence had changed everything, down to the way he walked. A longer step was natural, and if he wasn't trying to seem normal he'd be tempted to run around on all fours like Kiba under his doggy-jutsu. And he was constantly conscious of noise, of footsteps, or smells and the taste of air on his tongue as he spoke.

"Does it matter?" Her voice broke through his distraction, and he could hear slight tension in it, concealed in levity "Either way, you need some new outfits. Unless you want to be, like, the foxy-boy equivalent of Naruto."

"Ino..." _Why did females say outfit instead of clothes? And... 'foxy-boy'?_

"You could get some shades, at least. Sunglasses, you know... if you're going to be all secretive and keep your pretty eyes covered."

"I hardly think the rest of the world is going to agree that they're pretty." Shikamaru said, tense now they were entering the village.

"Oh, I dunno. They are pretty. Sexy, even!"

Shikamaru stared at her, mouth falling open in shock.

Ino pushed his jaw back up with one finger, smirking at his reaction, eyes lit by a mischievous glint.

"You could be the next Sasuke. Bad-boy good looks, and with your hair down you look less dorky. Plus, red eyes, that's nearly U-chi-ha!" She giggled and skipped off ahead of him, leaving him to rub his temples and follow.

His hair had been a problem. It had been thick with blood and dirty, tangled and grubby. He'd had so much trouble cleaning it he'd cut the worst clumps out, and then been horrified earlier in this day to find it didn't fit back in its pony-tail. Rumiko had cut it so it hung around his face in a way that could possibly be called stylish (to the less discerning, at least), but that hung into his eyes. It was aggravating, but it did have the advantage of making his eyes and darkened whiskers less obvious.

But now Ino was being weird. And talking about him like he was Sasuke, or comparable to the Uchiha lust object.

He'd think about it later. He hurried to catch up with her, hoping she'd calm down before they got to the busier parts of town.

* * *

His suspicions about the general public had been correct – as he walked into the commercial district many people gave him shifty – or downright scared, or plainly hateful - looks. And there was the whispering, painfully clear to Shikamaru. Ino, just as alert as he was to the nuances of behaviour, grabbed his arm and darted over the fruit-seller's stall, greeting a teenage girl by name. The girl and the other woman behind the stall, who looked like her mother, both looked at the pair of customers awkwardly. 

"Hana-chan, is something the problem?" Ino said, in a sweet voice underlaid by pure acid.

"Of, - _course not,_ Ino." The so-called Hana-chan said, eyes flicking between Ino and Shikamaru, who was looking at the wall besides him and trying to look casual.

Ino reeled off a long shopping-list and watched in amusement as Hana weighed out fruit. Shikamaru looked at her with pure admiration, once more glad she was on his side.

But he bit his lip (drawing blood), because if he grinned he'd show pointed teeth to the people watching him.

Ino stayed apparently happy, nodding and waving and calling to about every other passer-by. When they headed into a clothes shop she repeated her 'is anything the matter' question, tone still honey-poisonous. The fat woman behind the counter laughed, saying 'of course not, Ino-kun.' Ino's eye twitched in irritation, but she danced round the shelves.

Shikamaru leaned against a rack of long coats, depressed by the presence of girls his age. He hadn't noticed until they'd stopped, but there was a ... cloud of them. They were following Ino, a nebulous group that seemed vaguely sinister. He had always had good hearing, and it was even better with the alterations the Kyuubi had made to him, but he couldn't make what they were saying out. It made him nervous.

Ino returned, clutching a mass of clothing. She transferred it with bizarre dexterity to a folded position over one arm and grabbed him with the other hand, pulling him towards the changing room, which was not much more than a corner of the shop with a mirror leant against one wall and a curtain half-obstructing the view from outside.

He leant against the wall facing the mirror, pulling his green t-shirt off.

Looked at himself: The bottom of the mirror was further forward on the floor than the top, so he was foreshortened, head small and feet broad. He posed like Sasuke, topless and impassive. Hair thrown over face, stoic-cold red eyes. He did – privately – think his eyes looked nice red, at the least nicer than the Uchiha sharingan. His eyes had depth to them, complex colour, the sharingan was flat-blood-red and blank. But he himself ... he just looked like a kid. A spikey-haired sharp-toothed whisker-marked kid who moved with the fluidity of an animal, one who couldn't keep his face straight and solemn like an Uchiha, one who annoyed and infuriated his home village just by existing.

Ino shouldn't compare him to Sasuke. No way. The Uchiha was proud and distant and_ deserved _the attention of the mindless fan-girl following he had, because their single-minded fixation on him wasn't that different to the fixation he had on his motive for being a ninja. (And Shikamaru was a genius, he was sure he knew what that motive was). Whereas he, Shikamaru, wasn't dumb enough to fixate on any one thing. And he certainly didn't want to be the object of fixation, not in the way Ino was implying or any other. Gaara's attention had been far too much already.

_Heh_, _whatever. She'll get over it._ He needed to get changed, or Ino would be angry. What was she going to insist he wore?

Nothing blue and nothing green, he saw, looking through. He liked those colours though...

There was a lot of black. And t-shirts, one russet-brown formal shirt, many sleeveless wife-beater vests in white, khaki, purple, orange and red. And she'd got him 'accessories' as well, wristbands and fingerless gloves and a necklace of a fox. _Oh ha-ha, Ino. Thanks for that._

She'd got him leather pants, too.

* * *

Shikamaru emerged from the shop feeling uncomfortable in Ino's company. He liked her, he was grateful to her because no-one else he knew would have been able to so effectively parade him around the town without provoking some kind of trouble. But if she was going to be that clingy and weird and – act like she was attracted to him – he – he – he hoped she wasn't. It was scary. And the gaggle following him were equally creepy. 

When he got home (having been kissed on the cheek as he said goodbye, and having made his excuses very hastily) he went to see his sister before heading outside.

"Rumiko?"

"In here!"

"Uh, can I ask you something?"

"You just did."

"_Ru__miko_."

"I'm packing; I'm leaving tomorrow, you know."

"Ino was being really – weird - today."

Rumiko snickered unpleasantly. She knew Ino was more mature now, but she couldn't help but be amused by that comment.

"How do you know if someone,... is attracted to you?"

"_Oo_-ooh dear." Rumiko said. Now_ that_ was a question.

"Seriously!" He actually looked agitated, as well. She fluttered her eyelashes sarcastically, very amused.

"Well, did she stare deep into your eyes?"

"She said my eyes were 'pretty'." Shikamaru replied, frowning.

Rumiko kicked her luggage to one side and took a seat on her bed, facing him. She did need to sort this out before she left, after all. He filled her in on the rest of the day, trying not to sound too strange. This whole situation was embarrassing... And certainly not one of the problems he'd thought would ensue from the whole Kyuubi affair.

Rumiko steepled her fingers under her chin, nodding wisely. But she saw the worry in his eyes, and told him her conclusion without much fuss:

"I doubt she really does like you like that in a serious way, Shikamaru. She's probably just trying to reassure you that you haven't been too badly fucked-up by the fox. And if there is something to it, it more likely just that she's... seeing you as grown up.

"That's why your year all adored Sasuke, you realise. He acted older and more mature, at least as girls see it, by being detached and cool. 'Course, he was actually just moping around in depression, but it seems grown-up to little girls." (to Rumiko, any girl younger than her was 'little') "And now you've been getting to be leader of your little group, mature and responsible and you didn't stress out over the exam. That makes you cool. Then you beat Gaara and now you look all ... _sharp_ and different and stuff. Hence, admiration manifested as fawning idiocy. It's because she doesn't know how to treat you, you seem older and better than her to her at the moment. She'll get over it pretty soon, I'm sure"

"Unless, of course, she's just seen you with your hair like that and transferred her massive Sasuke-crush alllllll onto you." Rumiko said, bouncing off the bed to re-pack her belongings. "That would be hi-lar-i-ous!"

_Oh _thanks_, dear sister._

* * *

Rumiko left after dinner, back to the hotel where her girlfriend was. Shikamaru gave her the fox necklace that Ino had picked out for him, remembering how she'd given him a deer pendant. It was.. fitting, in a very ironic way that got everything backwards. 

With her gone, the house was quiet, each occupant in a different room.

He slipped out of his window, and walked out to the tree where he'd found Gaara. Maybe it was paranoia, maybe instinct, but he was sure there was someone out here. The field of deer was undisturbed, but ... Shikamaru leant against the tree, uneasy.

He didn't think his sight had got worse, but it seemed less important to him now. Now, when he wanted to know if he was being stalked, he found himself turning and _listening_, and trying to feel changes in the air-flow or the scents that it carried. Sometimes he wanted to reach out with chakra, but he knew that would be alarming to anyone nearby.

A lot of the time, he wasn't even conscious of searching things out with different senses. They were an automatic response to his concern, one his mind would interpret on its own unless he paid attention. He found himself struggling when he tried to understand what he'd sensed, still, and he wasn't confident he'd know if he did pick up on a watcher. Considering it, he wondered if he was subconsciously picking up on someone's presence right now. But that was paranoia.

He shrugged, and got up. No point in brooding about it, and the best solution for brooding was a session of cloud-watching.

* * *

And cloud-watching in the dusk sky is a beautiful thing, even when it's not true cloud-watching. Shikamaru was distracted – he could smell the meal they'd eaten, food-smell emanating from the house. He could detect each by sound and by scent, he noticed the subtle differences between male and female deer to the olfactory senses; he could hear fifteen different types of birds, and the insects and the wind and the distant village and thousands of actions and interactions that took place there. Cloud-watching was meant to be like meditating, blocking out the world. But it wasn't working today. He was on edge. 

And he could feel chakra, distant on the edges of his mind. Grating against the periphery of his mind, there was something almost familiar there.

* * *

And Hoshigaki Kisame stepped out of a genjutsu in front of him, grinning in anticipation. 

Shikamaru twisted to his feet with a cat's grace, keeping one foot forward, tipping his weight into perfect balance and jutting his head forwards, teeth bared. He raised clawed hands into a seal, ignoring the impulse to charge and scar with fire-chakra.

"You're going to come with us, fox-boy."

Shikamaru breathed out slowly, brushing his lower lip against his teeth. "Is that so...?"

"Unless you want to be dragged with us,... rendered armless?" The shark-like man hefted his sword menacingly, smirking.

(Still hidden behind a genjutsu, Itachi smacked a palm into his forehead. He'd _told_ Kisame about jokes like that.)

Shikamaru lowered his eyebrows. That sword gave off... not chakra, as such, but there was a power to it. He did not want that cutting into his flesh, even more than he didn't want any other pointed thing slicing into him.

And Itachi made himself visible, then. With the flair for dramatics of a very gay man, he pulled his black and red cloak back with one outstretched hand as he undid the complex web of chakra-layers, sweeping it around him and becoming visible as it passed over him, then replacing it in the same movement. He was a magician, fooling the eyes with skill unsurpassed.

He took one step, positioning himself beside his partner. After all, solidarity was important for a group.

"You're Uchiha!" Shikamaru couldn't conceal his shock at that.

"And _you _will come with us or be brought."

"You'd pay for me?" Shikamaru employed sarcasm, preparing to tap into the Kyuubi's youki again. The seal hadn't closed off totally, it shouldn't be too difficult to draw out more energy, and his only hope in fighting these two was to surprise them and run. If not, at least the chakra-flare would alert people.

"Shut the fuck up and fight, kid" Kisame said, and charged.

And Shikamaru was left to leap away, adrenaline and the heightened awareness of chakra that combat situations bought making it an easy matter for him to reach into the supply of energy that the seal formed. In mid-air, he lit up with flame-youki. Kisame's sword cut a gash in the ground, and the shark-nin swung it back towards him and raised the blade as Shikamaru landed on his knees and slammed clenched fists into the ground, making gathered youki race along the ground and flare up at his enemy. Kisame roared in pain, convulsing as his body was covered by red fire.

But Itachi stepped forwards, flicking his hand at Shikamaru and sending a tidal-wave of water towards him. The fox-host leapt backwards again, but fell short. Chakra-summoned water rose in a sheet of steam around him, but he made himself balance against it by modulating energy levels, like in treewalking. It worked for a second, but then he fell; by the time he'd struggled his way out Itachi was standing by Kisame, distractedly using some kind of burn-healing skill. Shikamaru had stopped drawing on the Kyuubi's energy, and he felt unsteady as he grabbed a kunai from his pouch.

Itachi looked over at him, as if he was a boring dinner guest rather than someone he'd just attacked. But behind him-!

"Come with us, I said." The Uchiha repeated.

And then he looked down at his feet, frowning. A black shadow was joined to them, and another branch of it was latched onto Kisame.

And behind it, back to the two attackers and in the same position as them: Nara Shikaku.

"I don't think you're going to take Shikamaru anywhere, Uchiha Itachi. At least not until the council has judged you for patricide, matricide, homicide and many, many other unpleasant crimes of murder. And no, I won't look into your eyes."

He held his hands up, spreading the fingers wide. Kisame's Samehade dropped heavily to the ground as the missing-nin copied the motion, and Shikaku walked backwards in synchrony with his captives until he stood less than two meters away from the two bound criminals. Shikamaru jumped out of his tree, legs shaking. That one attack, it had completely caught him by surprise. Gaara had been dangerous, but these people were killers, pure trained and skilled murderers. _Uchiha Itachi_, annihilator of the clan Uchiha. S-class criminal.

"I surrender" Itachi said. His tone was insouciant, like a schoolboy saying 'sorry' when he doesn't mean it in the slightest.

"Who sent you, and why?" Shikaku bit out. Shikamaru had never seen his father interrogate someone, and he realised exactly how much of a shinobi Shikaku was at that moment. There was lethal coldness in his voice.

"Our organisation goes by the name of Akatsuki. And our objective..." Itachi raised one elegant, nail-varnished hand, and pointed it between Shikamaru's eyes "Is to retrieve the legacy of the Fourth Hokage."

"The bind" Shikamaru said, voice suddenly hoarse with fear. Itachi had moved without being allowed to, and looking down the shadow link had been broken. When? How?

And Itachi and Kisame dashed away, one passing on either side of Shikamaru, both well vanished into the depths of the forest by the time he had turned around to see them go.

Shikamaru turned back to his father, red eyes wide with fear.

* * *

So, this is the start of a brave new fic. Better start than for Indifference? And do people approve of longer chapters? Is Ino's random behaviour here worrying you? (Don't worry, this is not suddenly going to have shipping in it.) Please, click the nice little lavender-blue button down there on the bottom left. 


	2. Ask a question

Shikaku wanted to go to the council, to inform them of the attack and aims of Uchiha Itachi and his unintroduced ally. However, he was a prudent man, and knew better than to leave his son unguarded. He proposed that both of them head in to the centre of Konoha. And Yoshino, naturally, wanted to come with them.

"I be damned if I miss a chance to set those bastard councillors straight!" She declared, pulling on a long coat. It was black and formal, worn for the funeral of Sandaime.

"Yoshino." Shikaku said, not needing to continue.

His wife looked down. "I'll let you speak."

Shikamaru laughed quietly, and without real humour. He was on his way to a state of shock, he deducted. He'd not used a lot of chakra, but he'd been drenched with water and now he was shivering. Shock, medically, was caused by a severe change in the body's functions, a change in temperature, in breathing, or possibly in metabolism because of poison. And a combination of sudden chakra output and prolonged cold and the increased heat loss from being wet... that would do it. He went to get changed, not explaining himself to them.

His parents were waiting by the door when he came back, and he felt suddenly unwilling to accompany them. It seemed likely to be an awkward, unpleasant trip.

But he pulled a dark green jacket on and followed them, shivering again despite the mildness of the night.

* * *

As predicted, the council was less than pleased to receive visitors. 

This wasn't the main village committee, but the security and administration council, which was working over-time since it was taking on the Hokage's duties and arranging possible candidates for his successor. Despite the fact it was half past nine in the evening when the Nara family entered the hall, there were a dozen men of varying age seated along a main table, and that number again sat at separate tables in the side of the room. Shikamaru noticed that the main table was made of several smaller tables pushed together, and guessed correctly that this wasn't an official meeting room.

One man looked up at them and said curtly to Shikaku - "This area of the building is classified, jounin-san"

Another man, one with long silver-grey hair, pushed himself up from his seat at the main table and crossed to a pile of paper-work, pulling some sheets out. He moved back, spoke to one of the other councillors.

"Excuse me, gentlemen, but I have come on an urgent matter of security." Shikaku said, loudly. "None other has returned to Konoha but Uchiha Itachi!"

Everyone in the room looked at the three. Shikamaru, standing between his parents, felt suddenly angry at the hypocrisy of these people. He crossed his arms over his chest and met their eyes, looked defiantly at the room of people who'd probably been behind his kidnapping.

"You may write us a report, then Shikaku-san." replied a languid man with heavy eyes and greying hair.

"I would appreciate your attention for my verbal report." Shikaku said. His voice was just as coldly direct as it had been when he'd spoken to Uchiha Itachi; and Shikamaru couldn't see how they could defy that tone.

But the silver-haired man moved up to face Shikaku. As he approached, Shikamaru saw that his extravagantly silver locks were actually a wig, and that his eyes – half-covered by the shorter front of sections of fake hair – were glass replacements, a bright smooth grey-blue colour, without either irises or pupils.

"Jounin-san, we were about to send word to you. Your presence is required for an A-rank mission, commencing tomorrow at oh-seven-hundred." He spoke with precision, and his lips were broad and moved pronouncedly to shape each syllable.

"I requested leave, Adiurat!" Shikaku said, real anger igniting his voice.

The man called Adiurat didn't move away, or even flinch. His face turned to face Shikaku more directly - reacting to the sound to locate him? - and his tongue whetted his lips before he replied. "You requested leave until your son was returned to you. He is present now, no?"

There was a short silence, and Shikaku's hand reached for Shikamaru's shoulder.

"In that case, I see no reason to delay your return to the service of this village. Please have a written report ready before your departure; here is the paperwork."

He handed the papers he was holding to Shikaku. Shikamaru wondered how he wrote them, before dismissing it.

"I request" Shikaku said, voice tense, "An extension of my leave. I believe that is within my rights, _no?_" The 'no' was a mockery of Adiurat's speech, and Shikaku leaned in close to him as he spoke, so the silvery hairs of the man's wig were tickled by breath.

"No." Adiurat spoke, scorn and amusement swelling the word, "In fact, the village is under emergency ruling. That precludes your right to extend your leave any further than it has been already."

He moved back and took a seat at the table, turning the chair to half-facing them and folding one arm over the back of it, face angled disdainfully towards them. "So while I thank you for your visit, your petition for leave can not be answered favourably at this point in time."

Another of the seated men looked over. "Sorry, Shikaku, but Adiurat's correct. We just haven't got the man-power, what with the recovery effort and the amount of damage the fucking oto-nin did. You know we'd do what we could, but..." He shrugged broad shoulders.

Shikaku nodded to him, heavily.

"Well I think," Yoshino burst out "That whatever the situation's like at the moment, if you don't listen to us _right this moment_ it'll get made significantly worse!"

She drew the attention of the room.

"Did _none _of you listen? Uchiha. Itachi. Killed a whole fucking clan, does that ring any bells now? Not within rights for a leave, piss _right off_; say what you want but if this so-called Akatsuki crew – and we're talking about – what do you call them? - S-class missing-nin? If a not insignificant number of missing-nin_ murderers_ are currently taking an interest in Konoha,_ you're_ in the shit, and you'd do well to pay attention. Recovery periods, sure. If you don't want a whole lot more to recover from, LISTEN! Got it?"

"In Konoha, did you say?" The oldest individual – older than Sandaime had been - in the room asked. Like Adiurat, his hair was white and long, but his was natural. The creaky voice drew a perfect stillness from everyone, and the three Nara were left put on the spot.

_The legacy of the Fourth Hokage... _

Shikamaru knew that the man had just cut to the heart of the issue. It wasn't Konoha they were after. It was him.

But Shikaku looked at his wife and son, and shook his head as Shikamaru silently wondered if he should speak. The jounin stepped forward and began to recount the details of the fight, impersonally and with very little emotion.

Before the report got to its end (Shikamaru was amazed at how his father could act as though he knew exactly what had happened before he'd arrived, because he spoke sparsely but very accurately indeed) the young genius had thought of something.

_Why did they leave?_

Itachi was unhurt, Kisame had moved as fluently as if he was also in fighting condition. They knew leaving would give their opponents time to recoup.

_Why did they leave?_

Shikamaru felt cold.


	3. And lose out on 'sangfroid'

Shikamaru was sure he was over-looking something – he couldn't concentrate on what the councillors said or even on on the voices of his parents. The group said they'd 'make a contingency plan' in case the Uchiha murderer returned, but the impression Shikamaru got was that they were being brushed off. He felt anger toward the dismissive attitude of these men left in charge of the village, their self-importance and scorn and distaste for him And as they left, one of the previously silent men looked at him with such venom he was snapped out of his suspicious ponderings.

The image of the man stayed fixed in his mind like a photograph: a full foot taller than Shikamaru, he'd just stood up from his slouch against the wall. Lips pulled back sharply as he met Shikamaru's eyes, the movement had been as involuntary and visceral as a flinch. His eyebrows were thick and black, but a few grey hairs speckled them, and they were lowered, intruding on strong brown eyes. His cheek was cut by three parallel scars, each one dark and widening until it met his jaw. The marks bought to mind Shikamaru's own whisker-marked face, and he wondered what had caused them. Surely not the Kyuubi, since the demon had wrought destruction on a much greater scale... But he didn't try to think what else it could have been. The hatred in that glance made it hard to consider the man logically.

But by then he was tired, and walking back he realised he had stopped analysing: he was dwelling on impressions and ideas without considering their significance, and that was a sign he needed sleep.

He slept, hardly noticing his parents' concern as they bade him good-night.

* * *

The next day, his father had left before he woke up. He was tired, and replied rudely when his mum tried to persuade him to eat something before he left to meet Chouji. He felt guilty for brushing her off as he walked down the road, but he couldn't bring himself to go back and say sorry. When he met his friend, he suggested they should go to a training yard, rather than his fields, for he was scared of another meeting with the Akatsuki. They joined Ino, who was curious about the events of the last night: 

"And I suppose this change in arrangements has something to do with the fact you obnoxiously woke the village up by messing around with far too much freaky-foxy energy, does it?"

_She could sense that from here? _Shikamaru stopped in the middle of the road: "Shit, that's _troublesome_. You could felt that from here?"

"Ex-plain, s'il vous plaît." Ino retorted, ignoring the question.

"I was going to, at some point." He rolled his eyes to the sky, annoyed. That was unhelpful, his advantage of being able to borrow chakra off the fox-demon had the drawback of advertising the Kyuubi's presence inside him. And he'd really rather let people forget that piece of information.

As they walked on, Chouji said something to Ino in an undertone, then they both stayed quiet until they arrived.

Shikamaru flung himself down desultorily, gesturing for them to sit beside him. The practise-yard had wood-chips for flooring, and they were uncomfortable. The shadow-ninja felt utterly disgruntled as he told the tale of the two missing-nin and their demand, and the council's reaction. He didn't mention the haunting image of the scarred and hateful man.

He'd dreamed of him, amongst other things. When he'd woken up, they hints and clues and revelations the dreams bought had been on the edge of his mind, floating there like moths. But the light of day-time consciousness had driven them away. Stupid backwards-moth memories, runnning away from him. It was because of them that he was so grouchy in the morning; them and the sense they bought that things were about to go wrong.

"You really deserve some peace and quiet, Shikamaru." Chouji said when Shikamaru had finished speaking, eyes calm and sympathetic.

"Tell me about it" Shikamaru said, throwing a wood-chip viciously. It was difficult to throw wood-chips viciously, to tell you the truth, but he made an effort. He shifted restlessly, scoring lines in the wood-chips with clawed hands.

"It'll be hell cleaning your nails, you realise" Ino observed. Shikamaru made a dismissive sound, but he felt inwardly grateful that she seemed back to normal. Normal-er, anyway. But then, that was because she was making an effort.

"Those kind of guys outclass us, I guess," Chouji said contemplatively, "But you're clever, Shikamaru. You could think up plans and stuff, and Asuma-sensei's a special jounin. And... You probably could learn to be good enough to beat even someone like them."

Shikamaru nodded, thinking about it. Thank the Kages for Chouji. His mind didn't get blown away on tangents, and while he didn't have the ability to analyse and intuit solutions, he somehow grounded all Shikamaru's concerns and all the possible solutions into one solid statement.

"Yup, if you beat that Gaara-demon thing I'm sure you could beat those guys!" Ino said with forced cheer. "So lets do training stuff, now get up!"

He resisted the urge to slide back down as she pulled him to his feet.

* * *

He and Chouji practised taijutsu while Ino worked on chakra control. She'd improved a lot, and when Chouji told him it was because they'd spent the three days he'd been abducted for tree-climbing in the Nara lands, he felt conflicted but mostly proud and happy because of the solidarity the gesture showed. Being a team... was a complicated thing, but it was worthwhile. He had to remember that. 

And he did remember that, at least to the point where he bit back his reluctance and sarcasm when Ino came over to them, asking: "Shikamaru, can you come over here a minute?"

She had a glint in her eyes, but the determined turn of her mouth showed that it wasn't just a teasing question.

"I want to check something. I'm going to use the shintenshin no jutsu, so stay still and keep your chakra-levels steady." She set her fingers in the seal, not waiting for a response.

"Ino, why?" He asked urgently, not wanting her to do it before he got an answer.

She pulled her hands apart, tilting her head from side to side."Oh, just that I want to know if your new and improved looks-" She always shied away from mentioning the Kyuubi's effects directly, he noticed "-Mean I can't possess you without repercussions. If they don't, the new skill I'm developing will work perfectly with you!"

"What's the skill, Ino?"

"Bouncing from one host to another, using their chakra for energy." She said, using one hand to illustrate the point with a jaunty gesture. "Now stay put for a minute."

She made the seal again, and Shikamaru waited. He didn't like having his body taken over by Ino much; being blocked inside his own mind gave him the creeps. But it was less trouble than being beaten up by her for moving.

She didn't have trouble hijacking his mind, and he felt the familiar shivery feel of someone – _overlapping_ - with him, then the sense of detachment and confinement – he couldn't see/hear/feel! - before clicking into mental contact with her. She had to reach out to do this, and it had taken a while to learn.

/Checking in, hotel Shikamaru! And it's a success! Oooh, you're all different!!/

/Feh... All okay, Ino?/

/Fine, thanks!/

Then Shikamaru found himself standing by a blank-faced Chouji, whose eyes opened a second later and whose mouth twisted into Ino's grin. The Akimichi punched the air in success, then looked down disapprovingly at her hefty form. Then she leaned forward and latched onto Shikamaru's arm, and he found himself thrown back into a senseless world of black.

And when he came back to himself, feeling pins-and-needles in his limbs with the reconnection, he was beside Ino's slumped body.

"Geez, Ino, how many times do you need to hop around?"

She sat up on her knees, face lit up with pride.

"I did: me to you, you to Chouji, Chouji to you, you to me. Pretty good, huh? It'd work for sharing information on the sly, and it means I could put someone out of commission without you guys having to worry too much about my body. The exchange is faster if I can use your chakra to jump across, and you can, like, leap around. Which is fun, by the way!"

"What exactly were you doing with my body, Ino?"

"Yeah, Ino-pig, stop leching on Shikamaru!" Someone called. Shikamaru turned around with resignation: Team Seven, minus Naruto, walked up to join them.

"Oh, no lechery was taking place, dear Sakura. _I_ was just practising _my_ own family's secret skill."

"Is that right, Miss Piggy?"

Chouji walked over to Shikamaru, shaking his head at the arguments. Shikamaru shrugged, stretching his arms above his head before dropping down to the ground in a slouch. Chouji sat cross-legged, looking at the two females.

"They're a bit calmer now, wouldn't you say?"

"Aa. I think that fight did them both good." Shikamaru replied, nodding.

"Oi." Sasuke said, one short syllable expressing exasperation very well.

Shikamaru looked up, one eyebrow raised. Sasuke was glaring at him, inscrutably black eyes intent.

"Naruto told me it was you who came up with the plan to defeat Gaara, not him."

Shikamaru wondered if he should correct Sasuke – it was Shukaku, not Gaara, that he had planned against. Gaara's partially tranfigured state had been defeated by Naruto's plan.

"It was Naruto who carried out the most important stage of it, he can have the credit. Recognition is a troublesome thing, someone as well-known as you should know that."

"Why do you look like that?"

Shikamaru smiled malevolently. Poor Uchiha, not being able to sharingan-read everything he wanted to.

"_That_ would be telling, Sasuke."

"Fight me." The request was in a flat voice, and Sasuke crouched so their faces were level before asking it.

Shikamaru shook his head, still smiling. His elongated canine teeth were visible, and the amusement in his red eyes made infuriating to argue with.

"_Fight me_, lazy idiot."

Shikamaru got to his feet, leaning against a post. He was enjoying pissing off the Uchiha boy, particularly because this one's features had been clearly visible in Itachi's face. He tilted his head, lifted one clawed hand to his chin then spread it palm-down in front of him.

"Tell you what, Sasuke, I'll fight you when you can guess."

"Guess what" Sasuke's voice was terse with impatient anger.

"Guess... why Naruto could win against Gaara and you couldn't."

"You fought Gaara."

"Ahh, but Naruto beat him." Shikamaru said, as if the distinction was vital.

And Sasuke didn't protest as Shikamaru and Chouji left, and Sakura and Ino went together to the market-place.

_Guess it, Sasuke? That wasn't a question you answer by guesswork. Naruto woke Gaara up, yes, you could have done that. But could you have talked him out of attacking someone else? No. You don't care about other people, you might have put together the information to understand his motives, but you wouldn't have been able to convince him to act otherwise. _

He went home, wondering if he had any of the power over people Naruto did. No, Naruto had a special gift, an amazing belief in himself and in his ideals, and a strange talent for expressing all his stupidly altruistic beliefs in words that rang with conviction.

And Shikamaru wasn't ever going to believe in something like that.

* * *

He was preoccupied by thoughts of Naruto and Sasuke – both motivated, both strong and desperate and unable to see themselves as they really were. And he thought of Itachi, wondering if the missing-nin was like his brother. He doubted it – Itachi had the look of someone who saw life from a distance created by cynicism, a distance that allowed for clear sight and cold analysis. 

He entered his house: there was no-one else there, for some reason he felt uncomfortable. He went to the kitchen, grabbed a glass of milk and drank that, leaning against the counter. There was a note on the table in Yoshino's hurried writing: I'll be back at half-seven, get yourself something to eat. What was wrong about this picture?

Some food on the counter, a pile of letters, a paper. Shikamaru found himself thinking uneasily of the half-remembered thoughts of his dream, of his own voice asking a question: why did they leave?

Then he realised: there was a faint chakra signature. It was faint senses, and there was no sound of breathing to accompany it. But it was there, in one of the rooms.

He went out into the hall, walking past partly-open doors with his eyes mostly closed, trying to home in on the signal. He couldn't detect them very accurately, and this seemed – not exceptional. But, it was closer when...

He took a deep breath. Outside his room – it was in his room.

He pushed open the door.

And came face to face with Uchiha Itachi, who was reclining elegantly on the single chair in his room. His hands had been folded casually together, but he raised one of them in a gesture of surrender.

"I am only a bunshin, Shikamaru-san. Don't strike."

Shikamaru kept his own clawed hands ready to attack.

"I'm not about to forget who you are. I'm sure even your bunshin are dangerous."

"Possibly so. But if you want to hear the message I bring, don't dispell me. Itachi-sama wouldn't bother to send another envoy to you."

Shikamaru glared at him. The bunshin-Itachi raised itself from the chair, bowed, and held out a hand. There was something dark-brown and a glint of gold in it, and Shikamaru warily turned his hand palm-up to accept the 'message'.

And the clone dropped into it two dark braids like shoelaces, ends beaded. And a bronze fox pendant on a silver chain. Shikamaru backed away into the corridor. That was Rumiko's, and Itachi had Rumiko's hair. His fingers trembled as he ran his thumb over the plait of hair – it was thick, the hairs dark. From the colour, he could tell it was from lowest layers of hair on the back of her head, a plait normally concealed under the others. He noticed with horror that on the top end there were pieces of white flesh still attached to the hair, blood staining the bottom of them. They'd been hacked off his sister's head.

His fingers strained, starting to clench in a fist, but restrained by his unwillingness to crush the hair. And touch the ends, because it wasn't just dried skin on the ends, but the flesh under it. The dermis layer, the top section, was distinct from the lower section – like paper wrapping over it, it was (his mind conjured an image) like the fatty skin over uncooked meat. _O god_.

He raised his other hand to his mouth, shaking all over now. But – focus – find out about her, will they give her back they have to give her back

(rage rose in him over the fear/disgust/shock)

But – NO. That hadn't been what had won against Gaara, and he had to keep his head, this was an even more deadly enemy.

"What do you want for her?"

"You, of course." The clone replied at once, voice light and amused.

"How ... would I know you'd give her back safely."

"Shikamaru-san, you come with us or she dies." Itachi's bunshin said, straightening up – he was taller than Shikamaru, though not by very much – and looking down with red eyes. The three dots of the sharingan started to rotate, but Shikamaru moved aside from the door to his room, dropping his gaze to the fox made of bronze. There was a little blood on it, forming a pink-ish patina.

There was someone at the door. The footsteps registered in Shikamaru's mind clearly.

And Itachi was nearer the door than he was. This wasn't good, since even if it was a bunshin it had held the things it'd given to Shikamaru (hang on, could this be an elaborate genjutsu?) and so it clearly had some power to affect reality.

The door slammed open, and Yoshino spun and charged at Itachi, picking up the coat stand and swinging it like a club.

"Stop!" Shikamaru shouted.

The bunshin of Itachi gave a mocking smile, then disappeared into smoke.

Shikamaru watched the coat-stand clatter to the floor where the Akatsuki member had been a second ago, and then he fell back against the wall.

Inevitably, without his mind's consent, his gaze returned to the braids and necklace. Two black locks of hair, each twisted into a regular plait, each topped by skin and capped by feathers.

He slid down the wall, legs shaky, and didn't even notice.

One necklace, silver chain with a few strands of hair caught in the clasp and knotted around it – all Rumiko's necklaces were like that – with one tacky but solid metal fox. It was flat, and the probably fake gold cover had already chipped at the edges. The fox's face and belly were pink with a few drops of blood spread over them.

Yoshino was talking, standing over him. He looked up, and slowly held the three things in his hand out to her.

"Mum, they've - taken Rumiko."

And then he let his head fall back forwards, onto his knees.

They've got Rumiko. They wanted me.


	4. Admit it, Tua Culpa

Mini-chapter, since I made the fatal mistake of signing in on msn :O . And, I wrote a Canon!Shikamaru and Sakura friendship thingy. KINDA friendship, that is. Please go read that. I'm proud of it.

Edit: that fic was written for Utuu. Ooooooooooooops!

Next post will have _actual stuff happening_, but this is kinda a study of reactions, with just a little bit of plot here and there. I'm practising my descriptive skill, and I'd ADORE constructive criticism for it.

I don't know if anyone wants to know, but I figured I'd explain my choices of title. Every chapter title for Interest has started in A, for no reason other than I noticed the first two did and wanted to carry on the theme.

-Attracting Interest - attraction because Ino and random!Girls were looking at him, Interest because it's the story's title, so it reflects that, and because people are 'interested' in Shikamaru and the Kyuubi (id-est, trying to catch him. Poor Shika.)

-Ask a question: was more random, but it's because Shika's asking himself his question, trying to figure stuff out. Also, because they're demanding things of the council.

-And lose out on _sangfroid_. I was going to just call it sangfroid, but I wanted to carry on starting the titles with a. Sangfroid is french for 'cold blood', and it means composure or calm. Shikamaru ends the chapter completely freaking out, because he's got the answer to the why-did-they-leave question. So: ask a question, and lose out on sangfroid _when you get your answer_. See, continuity.

-_alma mater_ means 'providing/protecting mother', so it was going to be that to reflect the fact Yoshino feels Shikamaru's grown beyond her.

-_tua culpa_ means 'your guilt'. Shikamaru feels guilty. Both those phrases are Latin.

Do people have any interest at all in the reasoning behind the chapter names? I'll explain them at the end of each chapter if you all want. You can further your knowledge of random stuff.

* * *

Shikamaru and Yoshino moved to the kitchen, sitting at the table without speaking. The varnished wood would have had holes burnt into it by Shikamaru's stare, if he possessed the skill of psychopyrokinesis. It was probably a good thing he didn't. 

There were crumbs on the table; he swept them into a pile with the side of his hand. Like the rest of him, his hand was tensed, fingers hooked because he was bending the top joints down; tendons drew lines down from his wrist to each digit, and the length of each finger was trembling.

_It's my fault._

Yoshino now held the three things Itachi's clone had bought. She'd taken them from Shikamaru's hands, almost afraid those strong fingers would close on her like a trap – not that she feared him, but there was so much pent-up frustration in her son she wasn't sure he could control himself. She knew ninja, and she knew feelings.

She'd put the braids down on the table, then convulsively snatched them up again. The fox and the two braids, when had Rumiko got that necklace? Yoshino didn't recognise it, and she almost hated it now. The fox: stylised and sleek, the gold image was of a dangerous animal, one crouched to spring. But its face was incongruously calm, eyes rounded rather than the stylised slits _kitsune_ had in paintings.

She looked at her son, the _kitsune_. Shikamaru showed every sign of tension, he looked like the fox, something about to strike or attack.

He sat on the edge of the chair, hands now resting on the table with fingers splayed, the tips of his fingers pressed hard into the wood so they were flattened against it, parallel to his palms, while the lower two sections of his fingers jutted up between them. His nails, long and hooked now, curved down, and the points made two sets of tiny indentations in the wood in crescent shapes.

His posture was bad, she thought randomly, his spine must be curved because his head's jutting forward. His knees were apart, and his elbows out sideways, he's sitting like a gawky teenager or an Inuzuka ready to spring up and attack. Inuzuka, fox. Whatever works.

She put one hand over her face, because thinking about this fox or that led her back to the dilemma. _They want one of my children, they've got the other. Fuck._

"Shikamaru?" She said, voice strained.

He looked up, blinking. And raised one hand to wipe a nascent tear from his eye (she hadn't realised he was crying). The back of his finger-tip ran across the rim of his eye, and she almost darted forward to pull it away. That claw could cut deep, she could tell, and it was too close; she had just imagined him putting his own eye out. She pressed her own fingers into the soft flesh around her eyes, trying to drive away the mental images.

"You were going to agree to go with him, weren't you?" She tried to not crack and cry.

"I – I dunno. I don't know what I would have done."

"I wouldn't have been able to stand that." Her voice sounded calm, but it wasn't.

"They wouldn't have given her back, most likely." He said, obviously thinking along different lines to her. His voice had been as weak as hers, but it was getting stronger and he had already began to think logically again. _My son's all grown up_ (she thought hysterically) _all grown up and a ninja, a cold-blooded logical ninja._

"And although there's no trace of chakra to indicate a genjutsu over those-" those items, tokens of the kidnapping "-we've got to consider that they could have been lying or deceiving us somehow. I needed more information."

"Sorry" She said faintly, almost mockingly. _Sorry for trying to defend you, you're the man of the house now._

"But it can't be coincidence that dad's been sent on a mission now. Who was that man with no eyes on the council, Adiuvat?"

"Adiurat." Yoshino corrected with distaste, "A poncy _bastard_."

"What happened to his eyes?"

"He got them and a lot of the rest of his face burnt off – oh. When - the Kyuubi attacked."

"Fuck" Shikamaru said, and then realised it was the first time he'd sworn in front of his mum and felt slightly guilty. He explained himself quickly, feeling awkward: "I'm concerned that he's helping the Akatsuki; that gives him a motive to act against us – me. He got dad either out of the way to leave us vulnerable to another attack or – possibly just because Dad'd stop me giving myself up if he was here to do it. I _hope_ that's it. But we can't rule out... Well, other options. They might attack again, if there wasn't just one clone. I wonder what type of clone it was, what range they have..." He drifted into speculation, and Yoshino watched him.

Fingers had stopped trembling, he regularly raised one hand and reordered his hair. It looked nice down, she thought, though the front few locks – the shortest ones – were spiky with dried sweat. They hung to the sides of his face once he'd brushed them back, leaving his eyes to catch the artificial light and shine glorious red.

She was proud of how her boy had grown up – the mention of that councillor had brought up thoughts of how others felt, but she would show them that her opinion was otherwise. The fox's change hadn't just made him look animal, it had made his face more mature. His eyes were sharper round the edges, the lids lifting at the far end of his eye so his thin eye-lashes rose. It gave him an alert appearance. His jaw and chin bones were more visible, but she thought that had been a gradual change. It was just the darker whisker-marks that made it obvious.

They say a mother sees no ill in her child, and it could well be true: to Yoshino, even those marks of the demon didn't detract from her son's looks. In their new form, they were a little more jagged than she would have liked, yes, but there was still a basic elegance to them. The lines followed his facial structure, and she was used to the way the dark lines twisted as he spoke. They were obviously natural (she thought), obviously a part of him.

She shook her head: _Yes, he's grown up now, move on, proud mummy_. _You've got another child._

And she tried to listen to his muttered theories, but ended up following her automatic routine: put the kettle on, make a pot of tea.

And returned to her seat, setting cups done. She looked at the table again to do so, and remembered the braids, the necklace. _Okay, end of the displacement activities._

She looked at them fixedly, eventually coming to a conclusion. It was clear in her mind, but hard to express.

She cut in to his speech anyway: "Shikamaru. If they have you, you know what their aims seem to be. And. You know that... it's putting the whole of Fire Country and more at risk, if -."

He looked at her, eyes pained.

"I can't ask you _not_ to risk it, but. You understand, I can't in good conscience allow you to surrender yourself in Rumiko's place. Not without a plan – I _can't._ As a mother or as any random concerned citizen. We should talk to Inoshi-san or someone, but-- I forbid you to act on your own."

* * *

And they both considered that: Shikamaru's half-spoken plans were silent, Yoshino's tea went cold untouched. The significance of that ran through both minds, heavily. 

And at midnight, Sarutobi Asuma entered through the window, speaking almost nervously: "Yoshino-san I have to tell you – Ah, you... know already?"

"Fill us in, Asuma." Yoshino said, voice tight.

"In brief: this morning, the tour convoy your daughter was with was ambushed. Almost all of the group were found dead, but a couple and two individuals are missing. Rumiko... was one of the missing."

"Yeah, we knew _that_." Shikamaru said darkly. But then he turned to his teacher, more questions in his mind. Let's gather information, because I _will_ make a plan.

_I will get her back._

* * *

Much like chapter two, this has a hint about later plot. More subtly, though. If you can see it, please do report your findings :O I would be _very_ impressed. And write you a fic.  



	5. Attention to your Chances

Asuma explained that he'd been on a routine patrol when he'd come across the wreckage; privately, Shikamaru suspected that it was not a coincidence that his teacher had been on that patrol route. The carriages had been trashed by water jutsu, and it had been a broad-sword type weapon that had inflicted damage. Shikamaru thought of the shark-like Kisame, and decided he hated him.

Yoshino and Shikamaru recounted their own experiences, and Asuma said he'd stay and keep watch, calmly setting up to watch the house overnight. Shikamaru was hyper-alert as he tried to sleep, focussing on his mother's chakra signature and his sensei's, constantly having to reassure himself there was no-one else there. But that was an instinctive behaviour, and at the forefront of his mind were plans to rescue Rumiko.

He turned ideas over and over in his mind, and once he drifted off enough to sleep he dreamt of severed braids and foxes fighting sharks.

* * *

The next morning, Shikamaru, Asuma and Yoshino ate an uncomfortable breakfast. Yoshino excused herself to go and see Ino's mother, and Asuma pried his student off the floor in the back room of the house, telling him there were things to be done before plans could be made. Shikamaru decided not to argue; his mother's words were high in his mind and he felt a cowardly temptation to put off planning moves, to let other people take the key roles for now. At any rate, he told himself, there's more information to be gathered. 

But Asuma just escorted his student to the training yard they'd occupied yesterday, picking up Ino and Chouji on the way there. Once they arrived, Asuma disappeared; less than a minute later, and before conversation started up between the trio, he returned in a puff of smoke with Hakate Kakashi.

"Yo" Kakashi said flatly. He held his book open in front of his face, and he didn't look up from it as he greeted them.

"You're the Copy-ninja!" Ino said, as if it was an accusation.

"Hm?" The fluffy-haired head tilted to one side inquiringly.

"You're lazy and a pervert!" Ino shouted, stomping up to him and attempting to grab the orange book he was still reading.

Kakashi's visible eye tipped into a smile, and he sidestepped. Asuma interposed himself between the two, taking his cigarette out of his mouth and clearing his throat.

"Guys, you'll be training with Kakashi while I go and see the council."

"Why?" Chouji asked, but it was forefront in Shikamaru's mind too. Rumiko's brother felt he had more important things to do than train.

But he ought to tell Ino and Chouji what had happened; it would ease his mind and they could help. And... he applied his mind to the question of Kakashi. The jounin had a reputation for laziness, he knew, it was unlikely that the man had volunteered to train a group he had no obligation to. His presence had to relate to these events, it wasn't random or intended as a distraction. And... copy ninja.

"Because" Asuma said, "I'm going to report to the security council, and Kakashi is going to provide them with information on you, Shikamaru, so they can't make any... unfounded claims. So he's training you three for now."

Shikamaru analysed Kakashi: the man was now looking at each of the three genin, his one eye sweeping over them with an obviously practised scan. If he was trusted as a credible source by the council, he was likely to be privy to any classified information on, say, the Akatsuki's whereabouts.

"I'll leave you to it." Asuma said, turning and walking away before making a long jump onto a roof.

* * *

Chouji gave Shikamaru a worried glance, which Shikamaru returned; Ino appraised Kakashi. 

"Maa, I guess I have to teach you something. Introduce yourselves, why don't you?" The jounin took a seat on the grass, Team Ten sat in a line facing him.

"Don't you know our names already?" Chouji said through a mouthful of crisps. He seemed suspicious.

"Nope!" Kakashi said. "And it's not just names, tell me your dreams for the future, your likes and dislikes, now go – I don't want to think of some other way to analyse you, so answer the questions."

"Yamanaka Ino." Ino said in a monotone, but she gained interest as she thought of answers to the questions: "Kunoichi number one of my year, and my ambition is to win the heart of a special person! I like beauty and friendships and flowers, especially the first flowers of the spring, snowdrops. I dislike... hmm, let's say large foreheads."

Now... you, Akimichi!"

"Ahh... I'm called Chouji. I like ... barbeque food, and I dislike food with no meat in it, because it doesn't count as food!"

("Your chips don't have any meat in them, moron." Ino muttered.)

"My dream for the future is to own a restaurant, where everyone can enjoy cheap good food and learn the joys of properly roasted steaks." He smiled as he said that. There seemed to be something about those questions that drew people in, invited and encouraged them with their intimacy. Shikamaru would wait and see what Kakashi was planning to do, he'd reserve judgement and hold back his impatience. Asuma wouldn't have left the three in his care by accident, and if their sensei trusted Kakashi, the man would be worth listening to.

"And now you, fox-brat." Kakashi said, indicating Shikamaru with his book.

Shikamaru looked at the man: a dark and heavy-lidded eye stared straight back. He didn't want to confide in someone the council had sent; even if he had decided to co-operate and learn from the man. The shadow-ninja gave a minimal answer, but a pointed one.

"Nara Shikamaru, I like watching clouds, I don't like troublesome activities like this, and I hate kidnappers and all the troublesome prejudice against me."

"Dream for the future?" Kakashi asked. Shikamaru genuinely didn't know what his aspirations were; a while back, he would have said he dreamed of being an average guy. He avoided having to think about that by subverting the question.

"My aim for the future... that'd be to rescue Rumiko."

Either side of him Chouji and Ino turned and looked at him in alarm. Ignoring their temporary teacher, he put his hands behind him and leant back, so he and his fellow genin formed a triangle instead of a line.

"These Akatsuki... they've got her as a hostage. Last night, they sent a bunshin-form of some kind as a messenger, to my house. The bunshin had a physical shape, but it only took one strike to dispel it. But it was carrying – a necklace of Rumiko's, and they'd cut off her braids. Cut into her skin to do it... " His voice had trailed off, and he restarted louder: "They wanted to exchange her for me, but mum came and killed the bunshin, so I didn't have chance to say yes or no."

"That's awful... " Ino said.

"You're going to rescue her, aren't you?" Chouji asked.

"I'm going to try. I don't know enough about them to make a plan, but-"

Ino had just looked sharply at Kakashi, only then remembering he was listening. She demanded: "Were you sent to babysit us or keep us here?"

He had apparently not paid any attention to them; he was reading, and there was a light blush on his cheeks. He waited a moment before looking at her.

"_Au contraire_, I was sent to train with you. And... I suppose I _should_ get on with it. In a minute." He got up, walked to a discreet distance, and leaned against a wooden post. And immersed himself in his book again, raising a hand and giggling behind it.

Shikamaru would have bet everything he owned that the jounin was still eavesdropping.

But he decided to tell them the rest of his plans anyway; he'd ask Kakashi for help. But as he recounted the previous night again, expanding on some possible plans he'd ran through (few of which seemed promising), he was ignored by the teacher.

He decided to ask outright: "Kakashi-san, can you tell me anything about Uchiha Itachi and the Akatsuki?"

The jounin walked over to the students, making a 'hmm' sound as he considered the request. "aaa, nope."

"What about clones that have a limited element of solidity?"

"Those? There are various elemental bunshin techniques, I know a few of them."

"Which are the-"

Kakashi cut him off: "I'm not going to help you unless you pass a test."

"A test?" Shikamaru said, frowning.

"Yes, a test for you as a team. Usually, it would be a challenge of team-work, but for a group like you, it'll be a little different. How well can your team co-operate within mission parameters?"

That was promising, Shikamaru thought. If he was testing their team, it meant he was weighing up their chances of being able to complete this mission. It meant he was considering helping them.

"That depends on what the parameters are." He said. He had intuited that it was worth taking this challenge, so he took on a determined air as he looked at the jounin.

Ino and Chouji seemed surprised, but they turned their attention to Kakashi too, ready for the test. The copy ninja smiled tightly, and shut his book.

He stood, and the genin did too.

"Your aim will be to take this book from me. But Ino, Chouji – you are not allowed to use any ninjutsu on me. Genjutsu and taijutsu are allowed. Shikamaru – you can use neither genjutsu nor taijutsu to attack; in fact, you are limited to your Shadow Bind technique and any variations on it. Incapacitate me, then claim the book to succeed at this test."

He glanced over each of them, before vanishing into smoke and reappearing in the centre of the field; his Icha Icha book back in his hand and open, he called an order to them without looking up:

"Begin!"

* * *

Bet you weren't expecting Kakashi! 

"_Nobody_ expects the Pervert Inquisition! Their main weapon is porn. Porn and a Sharingan eye. Their _two_ main weapons are..."

(I don't expect anybody to get the reference, though if you do, respond with appropriate quotes. It'd make my day :D)

So... Kakashi. Did Asuma send him, or did the council? Why would either group want him to keep an eye on Shikamaru? If you think about it, you might figure something about Asuma's intentions.

Next chapter, Kakashi's test. Can Shikamaru come up with an appropriately cunning plan, we ask ourselves...

On a random side note, I have made a C2 archive of chaptered stories. If you're stuck for stuff to read, go take a look. They're all less random than the stuff I have in my profile favs, and most of them are much better than my writing, lol.


	6. Aminadvertat

Shikamaru wasn't sure he wanted to use the shadow bind on someone who wasn't an enemy, considering how hurt Kisame had been by it. He could manipulate the shadows precisely, but if he were to slip up... he'd be giving proof positive to the council that he was dangerous.

On the other hand, he wanted to prove himself to Kakashi, who could be an invaluable help with planning the rescue mission.

Ino dragged him backwards to a distance she hoped was out of Kakashi's earshot. Shikamaru was sure he had some kind of listening jutsu, but he didn't have time to say that before she started talking.

(In fact, Kakashi was too interested in reading to bother snooping on the team. But they didn't know that, so he didn't have to bother eavesdropping to make them take it into account.)

"Shikamaru, go test the range of your Kagemane and his reflexes to it. Chouji and me are left to be back-up, we'll watch and report on anything you miss."

"I don't want to-"

She hit him over the head, messing up his hair. He shook it out, and she snickered at the dog-like motion.

"Look, you seemed keen on doing this, and it's your chance to shine" She said with some sarcasm, "So get your lazy arse out there and start scheming."

"I've heard he has a Sharingan eye." Chouji said, replacing his bag of chips in his pocket as he took on an attentive posture. Shikamaru had heard that too, and he realised what Chouji meant: prepare yourself to fight Uchiha Itachi.

"Fine, I'm going." He said, and moved out against Kakashi.

* * *

Facing Kakashi, Shikamaru held a kunai in one hand. The other man was still and impassive, not seeming aware of the fox-host who was focussed on him, ready to strike. Shikamaru psyched himself up to attack, unnerved by the jounin's nonchalance and by his fear that he would betray himself through his own abilities. But this had to be done, he had to test himself. 

Shikamaru crouched, then sprang, shaping his shadow as his trajectory naturally moved it into easy reach of Kakashi.

Red flames raced up from the darkened ground, curling around Kakashi.

And then around a kunai, as the spiky-haired copy ninja appeared in mid-air. He'd tossed the weapon upwards and caught it with his other hand, switching position with it before it lost its momentum, so he was sent up in mid-air.

As the jounin descended, he twisted; Shikamaru made a seal and sent his shadow after him again, but a set of kunai sent the genin ducking for cover himself, shadow returning to its rightful place.

* * *

Shikamaru retreated to the other two team members. 

"Chouji and I figure if we corner him, I'll hit him with that illusion I learnt off Kurenai-san and while he breaks it Chouji'll back him towards-"

"He's jounin and he's supposed to have a sharingan eye, the illusion isn't enough" Shikamaru said, mind working fast.

"If we try to drive him back with kunai and shuriken?" Chouji asked.

"He's jounin, he won't be tricked like that." Shikamaru said with irritation.

"Fine, you think of something then!" Ino snapped.

Shikamaru put his hands into his thinking position, eyes shutting.

* * *

In the field, Kakashi giggled behind his book. Better give them time to plot; this was a test of offensive strategy, after all.

* * *

They leant Ino's body behind the post, none-too-slyly. The forms of Chouji and Shikamaru, together with a bunshin-Ino, advanced on Kakashi. 

Chouji attacked first, since Shikamaru was forbidden from using physical attacks, sending a kunai straight towards Kakashi's covered eye. One of the man's hands came up with a fist-full of shuriken, which knocked the larger projectile off course. The jounin hadn't even looked up, and Shikamaru felt annoyed at the arrogance of such a manoeuvre. What if it went wrong, just once?

The Ino-creation backed away and pretended to be setting up traps; meanwhile, another blond figure crept from where she'd been acting unconscious.

Chouji threw a hail of shuriken in return, and when Kakashi sent another set to knock those away, Shikamaru's shadow advanced on him; Kakashi jumped away from the two attackers, drawing more light weaponry to his new position. He tutted, and used the kawarimi jutsu to exchange with one of the thick posts for training. It toppled, uprooted from its foundations, stuck with kunai like pins.

Chouji and Shikamaru looked at each-other before moving again. A message passed unseen, and 'Ino' moved and started making hand-seals Shikamaru took the offensive, shifting into an aggressive crouched run as Chouji circled around more slowly, providing covering fire with his last few shuriken.

Shikamaru slapped a shuriken away as it was thrown, the action came instinctively; a sudden burst of increased speed made Kakashi retreat with a kawarimi jutsu, covering his tracks with a smoke bomb. He ran through hand seals as Shikamaru dropped lower into his crouch and looked around, sniffing to pick up on Kakashi's location through scent and chakra spread.

He had just located the shadow-user the smoke dispersed to reveal five identical Kakashis; Chouji had retreated a little, this hadn't been planned for.

But Shikamaru knew which was real – bunshin is an illusion, the one he'd sensed before would still be the only threat.

He advanced on that one, only to detect a kunai from behind. He ducked just in time, but was trapped by more knife-throwing copy-nin. He leapt, and Chouji saw his dilemma and reacted quickly, throwing the wooden post towards his friend Shikamaru slapped one hand down on it and Kawarimi-switched, then jumped from his new position on top of it to a safe distance away from the multiplied opponent.

"This is the _kage bunshin_." The five Kakashi said in unison, turning to face Shikamaru and Chouji. "It's probably what Itachi used against you."

"They're easily destroyed, just one attack." Shikamaru said in an undertone to his ally. "I'll try taking control with shadow-jutsu, I read that it was possible. Don't do the plan until we know which is real."

What Shikamaru didn't say, because he didn't want it overheard, was that he could tell if he focussed which one had the greater part of the chakra. He aimed for a clone deliberately, and sent out his shadow, filling the space where his body obstructed the light with chakra, all of it ready to activate and -

_-And what?_ Shikamaru asked himself. _The youki/chakra mix is volatile, so it might well be able to disrupt anything else made of chakra. Let's try!_

His shadow snapped into place around a clone, Shikamaru's red eyes locked onto the target. He saw the world in chakra-shades of light, just for a second, the sense replacing vision. His energy, a mix of chakra and wilder youki, insinuated itself into the construct that was Kakashi-in-shades-of-blue. And for a second, balanced, Shikamaru could feel the kage-bunshin as if it was his own shadow or bunshin, connected to him and under his control.

Then it exploded into a swirl of violent heat and energy, scorching the woodchips.

Shikamaru dashed forward, ripping the next clone apart before it recovered from the shock of seeing its comrade explode. He grinned tightly at how easy it was to dissolve the clone, and experimented with controlling the next one; he made turn round before the imbalance in energies detonated it. But by then Chouji had killed the final clone, and he made himself focus on Kakashi, the main target.

Kakashi backed off slowly, turned to face both attackers at once. And as he took a fighting stance for the first time, he slid his headband up to reveal his sharingan eye.

* * *

ASDFGLDIES. First of all this chapter was a mission to write, and then our internet turned out to have fallen and been unable to get up again This was put on a memory stick and uploaded next door, lol. SOOOOO, yes, yesterday was not my best day D: Let's all pray the interweb fairy will come and fix my router so I can return to the internets. 

On a less complain-y note, I checked reviews and YOU GUYS ALL ROCK! Monty Python, go! Though I have to say: "An almost fanatical devotion to He-Who-Writes-Icha-Icha" is surely amongst their weapons. Now we just need the Dead Shikamaru Sketch - 'This ninja is defective. Possibly even defunct. This is not what I expect when I hired a chuunin of Konoha, and I _demand_ a replacement'

To anyone who doesn't know of Monty Python and his Flying Circus, it was an old British comedy show. And nowadays it's all cultish and thus cool, albeit with a cult with a tendency to produce fantards. If you want a sense of what the aforementioned cult of fans is like, go and look them up on uncyclopedia dot org . Infact, do that even if you know about them, because uncyclopedia is just plain amusing. Uncyclopedia is often the better choice...

Um, I best stop hogging my neighbour's computer now... But I _should_ be able to get the next chapter up tomorrow.


	7. Aidez Moi

* * *

"The plan, now!" Shikamaru commanded.

And he and Chouji charged, Chouji with a held kunai and Shikamaru with his shadow dancing in front of him, attention fixed on the floor. It was something of an art, pursuing someone like this; where before he would have stayed still to catch someone, he now jumped and twisted and bent his limbs to stay on the offensive, forcing Kakashi to stay focussed on him with his sharingan eye. He slipped up, sometimes, and allowed Kakashi to punch out with the ring-end of a kunai and send him into retreat, but then Chouji would slash and kick and Shikamaru's shadow would carve another void into the sun-lit ground, and Kakashi's mismatched eyes would be held to attention by his narrowing eyebrows. The two Team Ten members stayed near each other by unspoken agreement, and as they and Kakashi engaged in an intense bout of fighting, Ino moved in: she executed a genjutsu and covered the entire field in darkness, and moved forward.

(In the darkness that only her eyes could penetrate, she grabbed Chouji's shoulder. Her own body fell unconscious to the ground, the sound of it hitting the floor and displacing wood-chips loud in the dark.)

Kakashi felt disappointed in them: he'd been forced to defend seriously, but this new strategy had put them at a disadvantage – his sharingan could perceive through the night-genjutsu easily. And the darkness would hamper them more than him. He turned to an offensive, one that came automatically after so many years of fighting inferior enemies: bored, he knocked 'Chouji' out with a nerve pinch as the fake Akimichi attacked – Ino had been unconscious, that meant she was possessing her team-mate. She should return to her own body now.

_Hang on – does darkness mean shadow if it's faked?_ The question broke through his inattention, and he called out an urgent 'kai' to dispel the illusion, just as he sensed Shikamaru's mixed chakra rising through the more mundane chakra-construction Ino had made. The darkness lifted, and the day returned to its previous sunny state by degrees. Thwarted, the fox-host dropped his attack to crouch beside Chouji, calling out in alarm at the boy's stillness. Behind them, Ino groaned as she raised her own body.

Kakashi considered it: a reasonable genjutsu, good for a genin. But their strategy was... not brilliant.

But then again, he didn't analyse intentions as Shikamaru swung something light and broad outwards, raising a hand to block it without thinking. But Shikamaru growled in concentration and red leapt along the fabric, the attack seen in slow-motion through the sharingan. He tried to execute a kawarimi, but couldn't. When he looked down, he realised there was a parallel line of crimson leaping from the shadow the – scarf - cast.

He was frozen; they'd won. And because of his own laziness.

_...oops. _

"Maa, congratulations."

Ino marched up and claimed his orange book from the kunai-pouch that hung over his rear, and Kakashi had the strong urge to make an inappropriate remark. He bit his lip under his mask as his eye curved up even further.

And then Shikamaru's bind relaxed, and Kakashi grinned even more - _he could move again! _The bind had been uncomfortable, and his sharingan eye was getting uncomfortable to maintain. He pulled his forehead protector back over his – (_Obito's, _he still thinks) – eye.

"So we win?" Chouji asked, picking himself up from an uncomfortable-looking position. Kakashi had just paralysed him for a minute because Asuma would complain if he returned to find a pile of unconscious genin, and because the copy-ninja had been counting on winning quickly. This worked too.

"Your plan sucked, but I suppose you did complete the mission. The question is, are you happy with how that worked out?"

"We didn't have enough information to make a better plan." Shikamaru said pointedly.

Kakashi waved his hand dismissively, and declined to respond. It was important to Shikamaru, but that could wait for a minute. He hadn't meant to pass them this easily, he'd wanted to see their limits. He'd have to verbally test them instead, search for the cores of intelligence and determination that would carry them through missions alive.

At the moment, he didn't want to do that. He already seemed to be failing as a jounin-sensei, unable to get through to Sasuke or defend him from the influence of the curse seal. And his preoccupation with that had left Naruto to hunt down a teacher for himself, and Sakura to learn from medical textbooks. The bitterest part of it was that Naruto and Sakura were excelling in their new-found independence, both learning more and faster than ever. _I'm no great judge of potential... Asuma shouldn't have trusted me with this job, dammit. _

"So what's our prize?" Ino asked acerbically.

Kakashi's eye arched up again; the comment broke him out of his morose mood. Ah, these kids were so unsubtle, so endearingly hopeful. He almost wished he'd had them to teach instead of his own team.

But then he thought of how Ino was like Sakura but less timid, and how Chouji and Shikamaru would completely fail to put effort in, and how much competition for Laziest Most Perverted Cleverest Team Member Shikamaru would provide him with (he'd already one-upped Kakashi on notoriety). He reconsidered it. His three would do just fine.

Hm, but he had a responsibility to these. It shouldn't really be put off, but... He leant against a post, resisting the urge to find his page in Icha Icha Paradise. It had been the one just before that scene where...

Ino's eyes narrowed dangerously, and Kakashi realised he was giggling. Ah well, he had to behave for now.

"You win... My respect."

Chouji and Ino made identical shocked-angry faces, but Shikamaru nodded.

"That means you'll provide information on Itachi?"

"Ah, so forward. Yes. Asuma asked me to volunteer to the council to see what you, fox-kiddie, were doing and exactly what the full extent of-" He waved a hand "-Whatever happened to you when you fought Gaara was. He asked me because he knew you'd be planning a suicidal rescue mission, and he wanted to judge if you had a chance."

"And do we?" Ino asked, brushing down her clothes from her fall. She hadn't reacted much to his name for Shikamaru, but the Akimichi had.

Kakashi made it obvious he was thinking before he continued. In fact, he was wondering how they felt about the whole Kyuubi issue; he'd come to a conclusion on their chances before.

"I'd say you have potential to pull something like that off." He finally said. And it was true.

Ino cheered and Chouji grinned at Shikamaru, knowing how important that was to him.

"But – You two." He indicated the two celebrating members of the team, and Shikamaru ran the back of his hand over his forehead, face expressively bored but mind resigned. He could guess what Kakashi was about to say.

"You've never been involved in a fight anything like this. I sent you all off in the team pursuing Gaara because there was very little time and there was danger involved in just staying in the arena, and also because I judged that Shikamaru would defend his team-mates and keep anyone under his command out of danger. But with you giving yourselves a mission, a rescue to carry out, that won't be the case. And Itachi is more dangerous than Gaara was, and he's already shown a proclivity for using people as leverage. I don't think either of you are mentally or physically strong enough to stand against the Akatsuki."

"And I am?" Shikamaru asked blandly, eyes lowered. He didn't feel very ready to fight Itachi either, and he'd expected Kakashi to include him in that assessment.

"I spent a while speaking to Naruto about your three-way fight with Gaara... I'm not going to say you're as strong as the Akatsuki or good enough to strategise against them, but like I said, you have potential. If you can mess around with drawing strength from the Kyuubi and stay balanced enough to plan, you're got a better chance than any chuunin in the village to carry off a stunt against that kind of opponent."

Shikamaru felt his confidence grow. It shouldn't have meant much to him to be assessed positively, but to have his use of the Kyuubi's energy condoned by an influential jounin, and so impartially, was encouraging. And while having a better chance than any chuunin was hardly a ringing endorsement, 'you've got potential' was very much what he wanted to hear. Now, if he came up with a plan that could work, Kakashi might even participate. He intertwined his fingers, frowned his eyebrows, brought up all relevant details to his mind. He was going to do this.

"If I have the potential to stand a chance, then, would you tell me about the Akatsuki's location and what you know about the two members? You can see if I come up with a viable plan."

Kakashi smiled ambiguously. And pulled out a book, flicking to a relevant page.

Team Ten sat quietly as they were read the Bingo Book entries for Hoshigaki Kisame and Uchiha Itachi, and quieter still as Shikamaru placed his hands into the fake-seal that indicated he was thinking.

The sun rose high; Rock Lee ran past them forty times; shadow fell over the four as the sun was hidden behind clouds; Shikamaru asked short questions without explanation, and a plan fell together.


	8. Ambitions allayed

Once the plan was sketched out, they set their attention to learning what they needed to carry it out. Much to Ino's annoyance, her part in the scheme required them to learn a new skill.

"Shintenshin no jutsu," she called, less than a foot from where Shikamaru stood still and straight-backed.

Shikamaru felt blackness surround him, and the lack of a heart-beat or breath. He didn't have a mouth, but he could speak to Ino. He remembered the forest-land where he'd spoken to the Kyuubi and how real-world laws didn't quite apply, trying to think logically. He'd have to find the laws of this world; the plan depended on it. He had to extend the ability to speak without a body to the skill of accessing his body's senses and finally speaking for real, to people outside the mental trap. To do that, he had to ... what, access Ino's senses?

_Shikamaru._

That was Ino's voice; he had to get near her.

_Shikamaru, dear, GET YOUR LAZY BUTT HERE!_

Pure reflex, to respond to a shriek like that. He – surfaced. His vision was blurry, looking at Chouji, who was supporting Ino-him with one hand. He felt himself back away and stand up independently. It wasn't him moving.

It was strange, like pins-and-needles or when you wake up to find a limb numb and it flops forward without instruction. It was unlike that, too, because the unmistakable purpose in movements you feel yourself making sends a visceral shock into you, like seeing your reflection move in a mirror when you've stayed still.

But Shikamaru needed to know this, and Ino did too.

_Ino, can you hear this?_ He asked.

_Yeah. Are we going to do it with me in control or you? _

_We'd best... try with you doing it, for now_. He said. _I need to practise staying aware, I keep slipping_. It was true, his vision kept fading and blurring, as if his mind didn't quite manage to overlap her own. He couldn't hear the outside world at all, either. In all honesty, he really didn't want to feel Ino moving his body at all. It scared him. But that was an irrational reaction, and one he'd make himself conquer. It had to be done.

Ino walked in a circuit like someone trying on new shoes, posing and saying something to Chouji. He felt his/her lips move, but couldn't hear. He could see Chouji's face as he formed a reply, but he couldn't make out the words.

She moved on; Kakashi must have said something glib from the way she turned and saluted him. Shikamaru's vision was pretty clear now. But – damn, chakra. That was a whole new troublesome issue. She crouched and pushed off into an unaided jump, landing on a post, then pushed off immediately into what should have been a partial _shunshin _move.

It wasn't; she undershot and landed, correcting their fall with what Shikamaru felt physically _pass through him,_ a reflex.

She blinked, sending a question to him as they landed in a very animal crouch.

_Use my chakra the same way you just did that, by not trying too hard to mould it_, he told her, _find... paths of least resistance._

She frowned his face in incomprehension. God, it was strange, feeling his face react, reading his own body-language in response to something he'd said.

But she tried the chakra-jump again, and they carried on.

_I should have known you'd find a lazy way to do things... _Her voice echoed back, clearer than before.

* * *

While Ino was exhausting her body-switch stamina, Chouji had been sent to get food. And as the kunoichi returned to her own body mostly drained, Kakashi handed out vastly overstocked bento boxes. 

"You've got to be in good condition to go on a mission, so eat up," he told them happily. Shikamaru nodded and knocked Ino's hand away as she tried to transfer food to Chouji's stock with an sly move.

But, eating awkwardly, the shadow-user found himself drifting back to thoughts of Rumiko. His mind formed a mental image of Rumiko bald, all her hair hacked off, the angles of her face looking more stark and her eyebrows too bold, her skull's fragile structure visible. The pads of his fingers became white around the Akimichi family's chopsticks, and if the implements had been less solidly made they would have cracked.

Cracked, ha. Shikamaru felt like he might do that himself. The after-effects of such an extended period of being possessed made him awkward in his own body; not too much, but enough that in mission circumstances he'd be at a disadvantage. He kept over-shooting steps and lifting food too high or too low, his thumb kept slipping out of place as he held it as a pivot for his fingers to adjust the two pieces of wood. A simple skill, eating, but one that required precision. Not as much precision as fighting, though. The plan was a long shot, and nervousness was setting in.

And once they'd eaten, Ino was dispatched to spar in taijutsu with Chouji, a test of her endurance that she'd doubtless feel the results of on the next day. After that, Shikamaru said, practice shintenshin. Shikamaru questioned Kakashi on the wisdom of the taijutsu fight, but the jounin reminded him that the other two needed to feel prepared for this, needed to be ready to pull it off, and that sticking to one type of training all day would destroy anyone's wits. Except Naruto's, he added, and Shikamaru smirked.

But Shikamaru came back to the topic, saying that just one day wouldn't help; Kakashi said: psychologically, training hard helps.

And Shikamaru dropped it.

Then they fought – Kakashi pulled his forehead protector up and revealed the impassive red surface of his sharingan eye, the three black dots rotating around the centre-point. The hood of his eyelid cast a shadow that almost gave the manifested doujutsu the appearance of any vividly coloured eye's iris, but it wasn't convincingly normal. This was why the Uchiha were called demons, Shikamaru thought, as he remembered Itachi. Their eyes see through you and trap you, and their stare is as inhuman as a basilisk's.

_But who am I to talk about demons?_ Shikamaru asked self-deprecatingly, readying himself.

The mismatched eyes were impossibly hard to read as Kakashi attacked.

They clashed. Shikamaru saw nothing but the copy-ninja: the ground he used by feel, obstacles were detected behind him by dissonance in the refracted sound-waves from the noise of their sparring; his awareness dealt with these with only cursory notice by his conscious mind. He attacked with his shadow, Kakashi sent katon jutsu and illusion-genjutsu and kunai and bunshin, and he dodged, ignored or eliminated each until he was reacting automatically. There were walls of earth created, a transformation into a nude girl (as his instructor posed, Shikamaru made a grab to imprison his/her ankles in fire-chakra; the she-Kakashi had been convincingly cute, mask askew and hair dropping into her face fetchingly, but she was forced to dodge in a nude fury before reverting to masculine form).

There was a swirl of leaves that cut like knives, Shikamaru was scratched once, but the cut healed in a flicker of light he didn't notice. Kakashi used many jutsu, too many for even a genius to commit each name to memory for future reference, but Shikamaru wasn't meant to be planning, Kakashi had said he was meant to be practising tactics. He was meant to learn the skill of an experienced shinobi, meant to learn confidence in the reflexes of the fox and train them to human standards.

And he did. Shikamaru and Kakashi sparred and evaded and gouged holes in the grassy region of the training yard with missed strikes, until both were tired but enduring with determination. Kakashi was having fun, digging into his archives of copied skills; Shikamaru was immersed in layers of reaction and reflex until he'd completely forgotten the worries and plans that had preoccupied him all last night. This was what it was to be a shinobi, attack and evade counter and strike and parry and leap and slash and return attack.

Then they stopped. They looked up, and realised Ino and Chouji had been sitting watching.

"I _won't_ be able to do that, Shikamaru-kun," Ino said with false levity, "I can manage chakra-jumps, but..."

"We need you to be able to step back in my mind and let me take control, then," Shikamaru said, crouching near his team-mates and resting on his haunches. His muscles were burning from the sustained exercise, but his eyes were alert and they held a kind of predatory confidence. "Did you figure out how to be a passenger with Chouji?"

Ino nodded. Chouji was watching Shikamaru closely, and the shadow user realised they were surprised by him. That didn't matter, they needed to sort out the plan if they wanted to put it into action tomorrow, and another day's waiting was unacceptable for Rumiko's sake.

Shikamaru stood up again, gesturing to Ino. She obeyed automatically, not used to him asserting leadership but accepting his authority anyway – it was his mission, and he was cleverest and strongest. And it was vital to him, so what could his team do but support him in this mission.

She had a vital part to play: the mind-body switch was her unique skill, and she'd hammered out (more or less) the variant of it that Shikamaru and Kakashi had demanded. Quite an achievement, for a simple day's work.

"Shintenshin no jutsu!!"

And she gravitated towards the body of her team-mate, slowly crossing the distance. Shikamaru looked fierce in her mental sight, composed of yellowish chakra that spiked easily into thicker red flames. She hooked into it, stepping past crude mental defences and more dangerous caustic chakra-traps.

She pushed his mind aside, gently, and instantly found the nerve bundles and systems of her friend, all yielding to her control. But she didn't touch any of them (it took restraint, and strength of control), calling back to the displaced consciousness to claim his awareness: _Shikamaru._

He came back to into focus – his thoughts were hard-edged and would be easy to interpret, but she didn't want to intrude. So she started on the task of reconnecting him, all the while having to grip tightly to her own tenuous foot-hold. It wasn't an easy form of hitch-hiking, to be honest. But they'd make it work.


	9. Affreux

The night before the mission was just as stressful as the last night had been; the night after the kidnapping. Shikamaru had been sent back to his house after Asuma had returned from his meeting with the council, and the combination of his own anxiety and his nervous analysis of what the two jounin had said created furious activity in his stubborn mind. He wondered if his plan was going to be enough to sort the situation out, and whether he was looking at the right things after all. Was his sister even going to be with the Akatsuki still? There could be a private army or a team of missing-nin or a whole collection of other factors, other people, that the scheme overlooked. Shikamaru's only consolation was that neither of his two team-mates would be in the thick of whatever mess the fighting created, although Ino could be hurt by proxy easily enough.

Kakashi's words through the afternoon preyed on his mind. His plan sheltered his two comrades, but despite the jounin's warning that they weren't ready to fight s-class criminals like the Akatsuki, Shikamaru knew that he'd kept them out of the way simply because that made the plan more likely to succeed. He had calculated it to be so, and the dispassionate way he had done so scared him. Encouraged him, because Kakashi had stated categorically that he could think of no better way to do things, but shook his faith in his own emotions. He'd thought that his friends' safety motivated him, but with his sister in danger he was worryingly ready to lose that concern. Catch-22, a lose-lose situation. Try for one thing and lose both, you try for the other and find yourself back at the start. He hoped it wouldn't be true: you rescue Rumiko and all die in the aftermath; leave her, and lose her to gain nothing.

But – no. He wasn't going to speculate; his plan was the best it could be. He wasn't going to try to think of anything better, and he wasn't going to lose himself to self-doubt. He'd sleep and replenish his chakra, and he'd meet Asuma, Kakashi, Chouji and Ino beyond the gates an hour before daybreak.

... If only stating your resolve made it true.

* * *

Too early in the morning, Shikamaru made his way to the gates, munching mechanically through a dry packet of stolid biscuits. He'd need the strength, he told himself, but eating and running and apprehension were making him feel sick. He was late already. He'd woken up too early, brooded, and fallen back to sleep. He was late to save his sister, and he almost hated himself for it. He circumvented the guard-posts, which was easily done in this direction at this time, and made his way to the agreed-upon spot.

Even Kakashi, reputed beyond his own team for his inability to arrive on time, had got there before him.

"Shikamaru!" Ino hissed. Her voice was almost accusing, but worried and tense and nervous under it. He apologised, and she hit him, and he hoped she felt better.

He looked at Kakashi. Kakashi gave him a steady look back out of one eye, tucking the volume of Icha Icha away into his kunai-pouch. He pulled out a scroll, and made seals, pressing down on the parchment to activate the summons. A pack of dogs appeared, and Kakashi's masked mouth widened as he greeted each one.

Asuma spoke to Shikamaru, but didn't block the other two from listening. This early in the morning, the cloud of smoke from his cigarette mingled with the mist hanging over the land. The stink of the smoke added to the Nara's nausea.

"Shikamaru, I had a ... discussion with the council about you. I've made my opinion clear, and I'm staking my career as a ninja on you not screwing up and doing anything that'll make the council come after you. As long as you don't do something drastic, they legally have to leave you alone or come after me too. But I'm not shirking my duty-"

-"For once," Ino cut in.-

"-I'm backing you and Kakashi's seconding it."

"What exactly are you backing me in, sensei?" Shikamaru could see there was something beneath the surface here, and his teacher was dancing around something far too much for it to be something agreeable.

"Recommendation for the post of Chuunin of Konoha." Asuma said, smiling around his cigarette.

"What?!" Team Ten said at once. They'd spoken too loud, any guards would have detected the sound. Asuma looked severely at them, and they dropped the matter for long enough to move.

The party set out to the start of a trail, jumping into high trees and sending birds chirping away from them. The dogs' panting as they bounded after their human master was the only other sound. It was cold, and dew made the branches slippery, and Shikamaru felt ill. And- him, a chuunin?

"What kind of advantage is there in trying to get me promoted? All that'll do is draw attention to me and give them arguments for favouritism; I didn't even get past the preliminary stages of the exam, so I'm not a candidate! And I don't want to be a chuunin."

"But you did lead an A-ranked mission successfully. Naruto will get promoted, and if you aren't it'll set a precedent."

"He won his fights!"

"But those were mocked battles, and a strong portion of the argument for promoting him will be that he fought Gaara." Kakashi broke in, "Not only did you obviously play a role in that battle, but it was because of it that the council reacted. Naruto complained – obnoxiously loudly - about the fact you did more then than he did, and the skill in strategising that the team you led reported you did was exactly the kind of thing the exam is meant to look for."

Shikamaru groaned. It was too early to argue, and he couldn't contest any of those points. But he ... really didn't want or need this new complication of his life.

Thankfully, Ino stepped in. "We can stress about this after the mission, sensei. Prioritising, okay?"

Asuma nodded.

Kakashi gestured to Shikamaru, who blinked and shook himself; he'd been totally distracted. He dug into his pocket and produced the braids and the necklace, and handed them to Kakashi, reluctantly. He had to look away as the jounin knelt in front of his summoned dogs with them; he didn't want to see animals slobbering over his sister's hair. But it was necessary: nin-dogs could track perfectly by scent, so long as they had something to use for a lead.

Sure enough, after silent communication with Kakashi, the dogs started off along a trail. He then paused and dismissed all but one of them, and Team Ten recognised Pakkun. Asuma slipped off (good luck, he told them, no worry visible), and Pakkun sniffed the three and was told their names. He nodded to Shikamaru, deferring leadership.

* * *

Team Ten set off along the trail, bunched close together so as not to lose track of one another in the darkness. They travelled in silence, eyes fixed upon the person ahead.

* * *

Angst and nothing much in the way of action... XD. That'll change dramatically next chapter, fyi. But the Chuunin issue... how do you think that'll work out? Really, it's as much about getting Shikamaru acknowledged by his village for what he did with Gaara as it is about the title. But – is Shikamaru going to go along with his teacher's plan?

Hmm, notice the reference to Catch-22. Shikamaru and Yossarian are pretty similar, if you think about it. (Yossarian being the main character in the book Catch-22, and a sarcastic witty lazy dissident bastard. He is the win.)

On an equally random note, I'm tempted to write a fic about Evangelion. Not right now, but some-time. Spoiler-free plot summary, if anyone cares to read (you really don't have to): it'd be about Ikari Yui - Shinji's mom, remember – coming back from... erm, that spoilerific place she mysteriously vanished to. Coming back as a seventeen-year-old with no memory of Gendo or anything about NERV. But she's meant to be clever, so she'd make the 'omg, what's going on here?' scenes interesting, and it's very Eva-ish to put someone with the mentality of a teenage girl in the position of being thought of as a wife and mother and all that. There'd also be various Angels attacking, people stressing over Unit-01 (ya, rly!), and mysterious intrigue and the like. I think that'd fit my writing style. Plus, it's EVA. So cool.


	10. Apprehension and Aggression

Once Pakkun had told them they were nearly close enough to be detected by scent from the Akatsuki's base, Ino used her mind control jutsu to hijack the eyes of a predatory bird. It was a buzzard, Shikamaru thought, watching it circle up into the air. He went over the plan one last time, too nervous to sit still while he waited for the spy-bird to return Ino's mind. Chouji was holding Ino's body, and the Akimichi smiled reassuringly.

"I'll be ready, Shikamaru. And I can carry Rumiko while we run." He said, nodding.

Something about those words sent a message to Shikamaru's overwrought mind: they'd missed something. Viability issues, a problem that could destroy their chances of a rescue. _Fuck; how could I have missed something like that?_

He flung himself down on the branch, drawing his legs up, toes digging in to the front of his sandals. He took them off, and curled his thick-nailed toes around the hoary branch they were on. He pulled a piece of bark off with them, pulling it apart. And then realised it was stupid to be doing this at this time. He stood up quickly, paced a little, turned his attention to the sky.

The air had the fresh quality of the early morning, but by now the sun had risen. It shone from back towards Konoha, which Shikamaru was happy about (any advantage you can get... when we run away, it'll be easy to shadow-bind them.). Well, if your strategy hadn't just been wrecked. Which it had. But he couldn't afford to give up without consulting with Ino, so he made himself look forward, and then up to see the buzzard returning, its wings bright and colourful at this distance.

Ino returned to her own body, and the trio repositioned themselves in case someone had seen the bird. It was a pretty worthless piece of strategy, considering that if they'd been alert to the bird they'd hardly miss the movements of three genin, but nevertheless, they did it.

"We have a winner! Secret base of the year. It's the right place, alright, I saw three guards, what looks like a prison cell dug into the ground, and I caught a glimpse of someone wearing black with a flash of a lovely rich red colour."

"Ino, do not admire their fashion sense. Please." Shikamaru bit the words out.

"Sorry, I react to tension by becoming a dumb blonde, okay?"

Shikamaru breathed out in a hiss of annoyance. "We have to consider something."

"Um, okay?" The girl replied, sitting down as she recovered from the exertation of the reconnaissance check.

"If you're riding on my mind, will you be able to stay there if I'm – channelling the Kyuubi's energy?" Shikamaru asked in a low voice.

This was the flaw, and too much counted on the answer. They'd never be fast enough for the plan to work if she couldn't, and both of them knew it. Chouji looked over, eyes wide. He, too, could tell that they'd overlooked too much in not finding that out earlier.

"I'll be able to." Ino told him. Her fists were clenched, though.

"Let's go." Shikamaru said, jaw clenched. They couldn't back out now, even if this was putting Ino in danger.

Chouji looked at the two of them, biting his lip. He felt useless, staying back like this, but they needed the ability to escape fast. He had a vital role to play, but as Ino engaged shintenshin and he moved forward to catch her unconscious form – Shikamaru shuddered as her self struck his body – Chouji felt very useless. _I'm just the get-away man._

* * *

Shikamaru reasserted control over his body easily, remembering the last day's practice. He turned and placed a hand on Chouji's arm, and they looked at each other in an eloquent moment of silent communication. Chouji nodded – good luck – and turned to go to their agreed get-away point, holding Ino's figure easily over his shoulder. Her pony-tail bounced as he jumped between branches, and Shikamaru and Ino watched him through the same eyes until he was out of sight. 

Shikamaru crouched onto the branch.

_Are you sure you can do this, Ino? _

_Let's just stick with the plan, Shikamaru_. Her mental voice was steady. He hoped she really was sure.

_Stay in communication with me, okay? Ready?_

_Yes, now get the hell on with it!_

Shikamaru took a deep breath. It wasn't difficult to stop his chakra circulation, and he made himself do it calmly and slowly. He would stay focussed and stay sane, and remember the plan. He concentrated, making himself disregard whatever the alarmed thought from had been Ino. He had to rescue Rumiko, so he made himself ignore the fear she projected into his mind as youki rose around them, crackling into flames.

He made himself jump forward, sending all his fear into aggression and haste. Ino regained her composure enough to send him mental directions; a bird's-eye view, and he bared his teeth in acknowledgement – she could read his mind, she should know he was determined. Dashing from tree to tree to ground, he covered the distance from their tree to the base they'd been led to rapidly.

* * *

Three guards stood, one holding a katana, the other two a selection of kunai. Two were looking from side to side, obviously not expecting a threat like this, but one of the kunai-wielding mean threw weaponry into the trees, where it missed Shikamaru as he charged. The fox-host threw himself down out of the trees in a movement like a predator's leaping attack, aiming to overshoot the trio and smash the walls down as he landed. Ino called out, alarmed, that they were attacking, but he was already reacting, remembering Kakashi's lessons as a doton-wall rose in front of him, the guards behind it. He landed vertically on the wall's muddy surface, but before he could slide down he sprang up it, claws digging in and sheer speed and latent chakra fuelling his ascent. At the top, the braced his hands and kicked off with his feet in a powerful vault, snarling out something as he literally threw chakra downwards in the form of fire. 

His energy struck the three guards, then burnt down further to the ground. It circled around them on the earth floor, before rising again like a net to trap each of them, a cage made of twisting hypnotic tendrils of flame.

But Shikamaru, carrying Ino in his mind, hadn't even looked at them. As his leap carried him to the solid stone wall of the base, he pulled his arms back; as he was about to collide with it, he flung them forwards, surrounded by enough red flames to emulated the jutsu called Chidori, and stone shattered around him.

He landed on all fours, lifted himself half-up, sniffed as he sent out chakra to find Rumiko. But it was Hoshigaki Kisame who appeared in front of him, shark-sword already unwrapped.

"Samehade looks forward to biting into your skin, jinchuuriki."

"I'm flattered," Shikamaru growled, "But really!"

He kicked a foot behind him to thrust forward off the wall and lunged, one hand catching and holding back the savage sword as Kisame parried with it, the other slapping on to the shark ninja's chest in the attack they'd been counting on.

Ino threw herself out of Shikamaru, into Kisame's body.

* * *

For a very long second, Shikamaru kept his grip on Samehade. His palm felt like all the skin on it had been eaten off, and more and more of his youki was being used to hold it back, burning around his palm painfully as it combated the sinister energy of the sword. It felt like the fox's energy was setting Shikamaru's arm on fire, in a literal sense, and his muscles felt weak as if he'd stopped fighting, exhausted. Dammit, Ino, hurry up! 

He pulled back his other arm from the missing-nin's chest, bracing the forearm holding the sword with it. He could hold on for a few more seconds, he had to! Pain contorted his face, but Ino had left him, he knew it. Any – second – now!

And Kisame jerked back from him, cold eyes bright with horror.

"Shit, Shikamaru-kun!" Ino's voice called, and the feral shadow-ninja found himself smiling uncontrollably in relief, falling against the wall and cradling his arm. But-

"We've got to move on."

Shikamaru had had to say it. They'd neutralised Kisame for as long as Ino had chakra, but Itachi was more dangerous.

Ino nodded and opened a door: unnatural energy that seemed to Shikamaru like the youki emanated out. Ino shut it hurriedly, recoiling from something inside, and Shikamaru pulled himself to his feet. They couldn't afford to explore. He found Rumiko by chakra signature, and set off, Ino-in-Kisame's-form following.

He pulled the door that led to her off its hinges; it had been locked and bolted strongly.

Rumiko looked up, eyes ringed and red and hopeful. She started at the sight of Kisame, but Shikamaru told her it was okay, hoping his voice wasn't too distorted and his raw-red arm and hand weren't too apparent. He was pretty sure he didn't look calm and stable, either. She moved forward, as if to hug him, and then asked something in a choked voice. Shikamaru couldn't make it out, and they didn't have time: he heard a movement in another room, grabbed Rumiko's hand and pulled her out towards the exit. She was shaking, but she stumbled, half-running, half-pulled after Shikamaru, as Ino-in-Kisame stayed behind.

They got back out through the hole they'd made on the way in, feeling the euphoria of success. The doton-made wall had collapsed, and the forest looked invitingly clear.

But then Uchiha Itachi stepped out of the damaged building.

* * *

So, the commencement of Shikamaru's plan. I was trying to make it a bit realistic in that he doesn't really know what Kisame and Itachi can do, and he hasn't been able to think everything through perfectly. I hope the OMGPANIC-ness isn't too annoying, but it'll calm down after next chapter. XD.

... If you figure out what Shikamaru hasn't realised yet, you get an internet-cookie.


	11. Anger and Agony

Shikamaru kept his body facing the Uchiha, but angled his head back to hiss 'go!' at Ino behind him, who grabbed Rumiko around the waist and leapt for the trees. Kisame's body looked too bulky to move with the grace Ino gave it, and Rumiko was obviously helpless under her captor's arm. Even though he knew it was Ino carrying off his sister, Shikamaru felt horrified at the sight. But he didn't run after them yet, knowing they wouldn't get away in a simple race for safety. He'd have to find some way to stall the Konoha deserter.

Itachi casually used some kind of speed skill; suddenly he was standing in front of the fox-host instead of at the door behind him.

"How foolish of you to come here, jinchuuriki."

"Like you didn't plan on it," Shikamaru said as a distraction, backing off a step. "I was hardly going to leave Rumiko with you bastards."

"As if she matters," Itachi said neutrally, eyes indifferent. The tomoe-pupils rotated slowly, and his elegantly manicured hands adjusted his robes. The air of subtle menace was as scary as any threat could have been.

"To me she does; but given your family history I'm not going to bother trying to defend that view."

Itachi's eyes stayed flat, but his face showed imperceptible distaste.

Shikamaru crouched slightly, directing his concentration back to the angry, ferocious part of his mind. The fox, the fox's chakra. Maybe it wasn't clever to flaunt the demon's energy, but he had no other realistic was of escaping this man. And he wasn't irrational with rage – he thought, at least – so he spread his fingers and bared his teeth, facing off. He had a plan, and he'd make it work.

Itachi's sharingan-eyes rotated faster, and he made hand signs.

"I won't play with you, fox-host. And you're intelligent, so I'll teach you and watch as you learn," -_his eyes changed shape!_ Shikamaru realised and looked away, too late, as- "Mangekyou Sharingan, Tsukiyomi."

The world disappeared.

Well, he hadn't prepared for a genjutsu _this_ strong.

* * *

Silence, and Shikamaru called to see if echoes betrayed information about the shape of this pitch-black fake world. The call came out as a growl, and he realised he was in a stance still: his centre of gravity low, and his hands with fingers spread stiffly apart. But he was no longer ready for a fight; the chakra around him had vanished back to an acquiescent state. 

He could distinguish shapes in the darkness, as if his eyes had adjusted to the pitch-black to find shadow. But it wasn't a shadow, it was Itachi, standing over a less distinct form.

"This is the world of utter oblivion, the annihilation of the self,"

Itachi was holding a thin sword, the blade casting white shadows and black prismatic highlights.

"This is the land governed by my mind, and it is a land of passionate suffering,"

He angled the blade, weighing it in his hand.

"Passion meant pain, or suffering, before it was sentimentalised."

He smiled icily, and swung the sword. As the white blade swung in an arc Shikamaru saw that it was Rumiko who was lying at Itachi's feet; white shadows bright against a dark face, chin tipped back and eyelashes curved upwards, showing that her eyes were slightly open. He could see she was wearing that expression of hope she'd borne before: it was still concealed under those thick lashes, for all that she was naked and sprawled helplessly.

"These moments will be your life for seventy-two hours,"

The seemingly-careless slash of the blade cut two white-highlighted braids from his sister's head with precision, not slowing in its path as it bit them out of her skin. The sword arced back up, leaving an after-image of white, and Shikamaru could see that the tip of it had drawn a perfect circle, one only grazing Rumiko slightly.

"Three days of the death of the sister you gave yourself up to save."

He laid his other hand on the sword, raised it ritualistically, and struck downwards, piercing Rumiko's chest between her breasts. Her eyes opened wider in pained shock, she let out a moaning gasp, lips reddened with blood, her spine curved up in a helpless reflex, and Shikamaru could see that the sword gone straight through her. His hand reached forward helplessly, and he felt terror for her and rage.

Blood was still red in the world of the Mangekyou.

He cried out something, and Itachi pulled the blade back, holding it horizontal. Rumiko slumped back down in death, and darkness enveloped her.

"This is the world of utter obliteration, the annihilation of self," Itachi said once more.

Shikamaru let out a choked gasp, eyes filling with tears.

* * *

Ino lifted Rumiko onto her shoulders once she felt safe enough to slow down and perform the manoeuvre, and Rumiko took the opportunity to speak – she'd been constricted by the strong arms of the possessed shark-nin before. 

"Ino? You've got to stop!" Her voice was scratchy and weak, and Ino's heart went out to the wretched-looking girl.

"Don't worry, Shikamaru got us in safely, he'll get out fine."

"But..."

"Just leave it to us, 'kay?" Ino set off again, the force of her leaps making Rumiko hold on tightly and abandon her speech. She was tired, too tired, even though it was so important that she said this...

* * *

The fourth time he saw Rumiko die, the shock didn't overwhelm him. His fear for her had dulled slightly, now the fact that Itachi could create a simulacrum of her, nude and emotional and tormented, was making him furious. But he kept to rationality: his sobbing was pointless. It wasn't real, he'd told himself that before, for all that it was too real to disregard. 

It wasn't real enough for him to believe – he'd started forward every time the sword swung down, and not gotten any nearer to the murderer _(bastard!)_ or his poor sister. No nearer. It hurt to see it, Rumiko's sobbed sigh and the blood that turned her lower lip crimson. It hurt to see and hear Itachi's sword penetrate her rib-cage and it hurt to smell fresh blood. It was all imprinted on to his memory, he was certain it would haunt him.

But he'd been telling himself one thing, through every fight in the past.

Don't lose yourself to anger.

Once more, Itachi struck the tip of his sword, removing two plaits from the mass splayed around Rumiko's hair, and a trickle of blood ran down her forehead until it reached her right eyebrow.

... It held equally true that you shouldn't lose yourself to mad grief and thoughtless revenge.

Shikamaru turned away to force himself to plan. But facing the other direction he found a ghostly reflection of the macabre scene he'd looked away from, a reflection of it that solidified until it was just as real as the other tableau.

He couldn't ignore the details, he was transfixed by it: in the twin-colour contrast of this world, Rumiko's neck was scored with white lines in a v, jutting out sharper as she reacted to the strike of the sword. Her lips parted slightly as the sword continued its circular path; her chest rose and fell as she breathed in desperately. Details of the scene came out stronger each time he saw it; every time, he became more and more aware of his sister's emotions, her rising panic from the second Itachi struck her. Everything he noticed would be indelibly printed in his mind, he realised. That was the elegance of it, it was not physical torture, but something that forced the victim to wreck their own mind.

He shut his eyes, hoping against hope he could at least shut out the visible signs of her suffering, but it was as if nothing had changed – his eyelids were the same black as the backdrop to the images, and Rumiko and Itachi were sketched onto it. It was an illusion, of course nothing blocked it out.

Shikamaru laughed bitterly as Itachi's sword cleaved into Rumiko's sternum.

* * *

Rumiko stopped her weak attempts to speak after five minute's travel; _good,_ thought Ino, _she'll get some kind of rest and wake up in hospital with Shikamaru beside her_. She moved on, catching up with Chouji at the agreed outpost.

After being reassured that Ino was not, in fact, a shark-like Akatsuki member, the first thing Chouji asked was: "Is she hurt?"

"Looks all right to me," Ino replied, "just exhausted and stressed. She was gabbling a bit on the way back, but she seemed rational enough – I mean, she got that I was Ino not Kisame, she can't have been too traumatised."

"That's good," he said, laying Rumiko beside Ino's real body on the branch. "I'll get to work, shall I?"

He produced from his pack and kunai-pouch a number of seal-sheets and warding items. The main component of their plan had been to use Ino's shintenshin skill against Kisame, the less likely of the two Akatsuki to be invulnerable to a mental attack. This reduced the enemy force by half and gave their group two attackers with strong enough chakra levels to flee at full speed with a passenger. In her own form, Ino was a liability to Shikamaru, as much as she hated to admit it.

However, this had left them with the problem of what to do with Kisame – he would end up with the retrieved Rumiko, and could take her straight back to Itachi once the shintenshin was released. So most of the rest of the preparation had been Kakashi helping them find warding and imprisonment seals – a strong enough jutsu would have to be done by Shikamaru, and they needed him to hold off Itachi and escape.

But they'd got there: Chouji took a chakra-augmentation pill and positioned the seal over Ino/Kisame's wrists, then ran through a sequence of hand-seals: "Pentagram of Five Elements Sealing, activate!"

And so on.

* * *

In the world created by the Mangekyou Sharingan, Shikamaru's bitter, resigned laughter echoed as his sister collapsed, braids falling across her photo-negative face like snakes. She shifted, vanished into the black background for a moment, white outlines painting a kind of silhouette and then filling her body back in as if the gruesome murder had never happened. 

Shikamaru shook his head as he quieted himself.

"I see the way past it now," he said.

* * *

OMG, Itachi's nasty torture genjutsu-thing. JUST WHAT DOES SHIKAMARU THINK HE CAN DO??!?ONEoneONEelevem? 

-calms down- Hm, Itachi says 'passion' originally meant suffering. This is, in fact, true: it comes from a latin verb meaning to mourn or suffer, and in the time of Jane Austen if you called someone passionate you'd insult them. Don'tcha just love etymology... -geek-

Please do tell me if I made a convincingly nasty bastardly Itachi and if the poor ded Rumiko works as a Tsukiyomi scene thing. I didn't manage to research it on the internet before writing the scene, so I don't know if he can make fake-people within it. I thought yes, since he made Sasuke see the clan-murdering incident, but do correct me if I'm wrong.


	12. Autonomy, Shikamaru?

And he shut his eyes once more, taking advantage of the split second of blankness to concentrate. His hand slid under his top to his stomach, and the lines of the seal burnt hotly there as he shut down his chakra (it was a good thing he was accustomed to doing it now, because the sound of Rumiko dying ran through his mind and he nearly lost his focus).

He felt disorientated, as if he was falling through the black void, and then -

-He saw the bloody red of the world the Kyuubi was sealed in, but none of the trees or surroundings. It didn't have any distinguishing features, in fact, but the sense of momentum continued, as if he was falling or being swept along by a river. He moved along, for a long moment, and in panic he realised he wasn't breathing and couldn't feel his chakra circulating. Maybe he'd killed himself by running from his mind while it was under genjutsu-control... He'd counted on the fact that although in the Tsukiyomi's reality he couldn't affect anything else, he could affect himself. He'd still been controlling his own breathing, after all, so he had to be in control of his life functions. His chakra circulation was one of these, and by using that measure of control to change his state of awareness he could remove himself from the illusion. And this, the dimension where the Kyuubi was sealed, was not something Itachi had any way to affect, but one that Shikamaru could. And he could return to his reality from here, hopefully.

He fell.

* * *

He fell, and anticipated hitting something. 

And he did: he slammed back into his body with what seemed like considerable force (It was, he realised, because of the virtual tidal wave of the Kyuubi's energy that had carried him back. _This means that the fox... helped me out? Why? Self-preservation – the Akatsuki would bind him again, more permanently than this...)_

But he couldn't waste time speculating; before his eyes had focussed to identify the black-red-pale human in front of him, he pulled out a specially prepared kunai and threw it as far as he could into the trees, darting back as the Itachi-figure made a faintly surprised and totally scornful noise. Obviously the man had been expecting Shikamaru to collapse in a traumatised heap, and Shikamaru did indeed slump as he realised that – too late to be convincing, but it only mattered for a second - trying to pretend the kunai had been a last-ditch attack. Meanwhile, he reached out mentally.

And activated the knock-off haraishin jutsu tied to the kunai. Ha!

He vanished from Itachi's view in a blood-red blur, and the somewhat surprised Akatsuki member turned to face the direction Shikamaru had vanished to. Shikamaru threw another kunai, teleported again, and raced with all the speed he could muster, leaving flame-trails of chakra.

Itachi didn't attempt to follow the flares of youki that marked the demon-host's escape.

* * *

Shikamaru rendez-vous'd with Ino (back in her own body) and Chouji (carrying Rumiko), and they headed back to Konoha. 

"We'll be back in time for lunch," joked the kunoichi of the group, and Chouji made a strange whining sound.

Some minutes later, the silent race was interrupted by Chouji again.

"Need... food..." the Akimichi said, looking piteously down at his stomach. He'd exhausted his stock of crisps while waiting, and he had been carrying Rumiko for the whole return journey. But then he sighed and carried on running. Shikamaru gave him a grateful look – he hadn't complained while they were still in a dangerous situation.

Or were they still in danger? Shikamaru wanted to hold on to his calculating attitude – he almost felt they were, and he'd detected some kind of chakra in the forest. He'd convinced himself that it was just paranoia after the genjutsu Itachi had used, and nothing more. He'd convinced himself, but doubts lingered and he didn't trust his own analysis.

Still, they'd got in and out just fine, and he only needed to get home before he could relax.

* * *

The hospital of Konoha was a place they'd all got too familiar with over the last month, and aware that Rumiko wasn't obviously physically hurt, they decided to go to Shikamaru's house instead. They entered through the unlocked front door, and met Yoshino and Asuma, who seemed to have been waiting for them. A slightly awkward silence was broken by Ino loudly collapsing into an armchair, declaring how good it was to sit down. Chouji carefully rested Rumiko flat on the sofa, smiling a little. He looked proud, Shikamaru realised, and looked back at Rumiko, reassuring himself she was safe. 

Yoshino darted forward with almost ninja-like speed and flung her arms around Chouji.

And Shikamaru laughed in sheer relief, because they'd gotten away with it.

* * *

Asuma looked around at his students – Shikamaru was collapsing after two days of non-stop tension and planning; Ino's hands were shaking even though she'd interlinked the fingers – suffering from chakra exhaustion? Or the after-effects of unpractised shintenshin techniques, maybe. Chouji... seemed all right, if tired. He was turning blue with the pressure Yoshino was hugging him with, though. 

"So did you carry it off without complications?" Asuma asked the mission leader, fully intending it debrief his team unofficially. It'd support his nomination of Shikamaru for chuunin, after-all.

Shikamaru glanced up. He'd fallen back into a comfortable chair, hair covering his face and body slack. When he raised his head, Asuma thought he could see tears. But then Shikamaru shook himself, brushing his hair back (it was tangled and messy, and looked a little like a lion's mane).

"We only encountered three subordinates, who were easily dealt with. Our strategy for dealing with Hoshigaki Kisame worked perfectly; Rumiko was retrieved with no trouble, but we were impeded by Uchiha Itachi when we tried to leave... I escaped by use of the kunai-switch technique we prepared."

But there seemed to be something else there, and Asuma knew he'd have to find it out. Not in Yoshino-san's presence, though.

The special-jounin turned back to the rest of the room. Yoshino was beside her returned daughter, organising her braids and straightening her clothes, tipping the sleeping face and running a hand over her brow. Asuma remembered his aunt beside his dead father, touching the lifeless face in disbelief. The same gesture, a world of difference in the emotion driving it...

He made himself check over Chouji and Ino. Told them to go home and sleep. Excused himself, walked back home, savouring the cigarette he'd been forbidden from smoking in the Nara house. He wasn't bitter, just...

He shook his head, blowing out smoke with his face tilted up to the sky. The wall of the Hokages was strongly lit by the sun, and the shadows thrown over it made the younger face of the Sandaime look benevolently down at him.

He crushed the cigarette butt out savagely, and lit up a new one immediately.

* * *

Ah, the rescue storyline is over. Note Asuma, for he is teh angst. He'll be getting more of an active role in this fic, but from it won't be very angsty. Next up we have various quasi-political things and more of Sasuke and Sakura. Possibly Team 8 will make an appearance, but I dunno. Would you guys care to see them? Either way, we have a calm bit of fic before the return of Jiraiya and Naruto and Tsunade. It'll have quite a bit of training and stuff, and some exposition on Shikamaru's Kyuubi-like abilities. Plus a fight between Sasuke and Shikamaru, yupyup! 


	13. Absolution I Ask

Chouji carried Rumiko across the house to her bedroom, and left awkwardly as Yoshino tucked her daughter in. He'd never seen Shikamaru's mother look so – doting, vulnerable, emotional.

He walked back slowly, feeling the fatigue of his body. His friend's house was dark in the hall, even though it was nearly mid-day now. He could hear Shikamaru and Ino, whose voices were quiet and seemed almost faltering. The Akimichi laid one hand against the wall, feeling himself lean helplessly towards it (in the cool dark of this house, he felt disorientated and dizzy and his legs seemed just a bit unsteady, after four hours of stress and running too fast and chakra worn out,) his head rested against the wall, and the quiet voices of his friends made him think they didn't want him there, made him think of privacy but also of exclusion.

His eyes drifted shut. He was exhausted, even though he'd hardly done any of the work. Yoshino had looked at him, grateful, had hugged him; he had felt the ferocious need and love of a mother who'd thought she could be bereaved. He thought of Rumiko in some anonymous base, kidnapped.

_We did a good thing, even if my role in it wasn't vital._

He felt confused: part of him felt left-out, part of him victorious and proud and ...

He was part of Team Ten; he wasn't the poor bullied kid any more, and Shikamaru had never been a bully. Ino and Shikamaru and Chouji, they were a team. Nothing could change that, and he was stupid for thinking this mission had affected it.

He walked back in, and Ino smiled at him as he sat on the sofa beside Shikamaru. Shikamaru nodded, now leant back on the settee instead of huddling there with his head down.

"You okay?" Chouji asked his friend, who didn't quite look it, despite his change in body language.

He shrugged, then asked: "Shall we go outside?"

Ino looked forlornly at her comfy chair once she'd left it, but they did go out, and were glad they did. The sun was warm on their faces, there were clouds scudding across the sky, and a light breeze refreshed them. It was an idyllic Konoha day, and something about this sight in the broad Nara fields calmed them. It was familiar, it was safe and pleasant.

They spent all afternoon there, dozing in the sun, and Shikamaru hesitantly spoke about Itachi's genjutsu. He felt better for it.

* * *

The next morning, Rumiko still hadn't woken up. Yoshino had spent the night by her daughter's bedside, and was asleep there when Shikamaru left to meet his team. They both looked fine, but he still didn't want to leave them there alone.

He left them anyway, aware that there were issues with the council and the legality of the rescue mission was worse than dubious. He had a duty to follow his actions through and cope with the consequences, and Ino and Chouji trusted him to do just that. It was troublesome, but he knew it was a necessary bother.

Kakashi was waiting with Asuma in the training ground, although Team Ten had passed the genin of Team Seven (waiting by the bridge) on their way over. _That's why they call him lazy, he double-books himself..._ Shikamaru thought, wondering what business Kakashi still had with them. _I hope it's not the chuunin thing..._

But Kakashi just looked up when Shikamaru and his team-mates arrived, and handed Shikamaru something. It was the fox necklace that they'd given his nin-dogs to scent from. The blood had been cleaned off it, he realised, turning the metal over in his hands. His thanks were absent-minded, and he didn't look up to see Kakashi nod in acknowledgement. He wasn't sure whether he'd have been able to take the braids back. That fox... He couldn't decide what he thought of it. Some part of him thought, irrationally, that it had given Rumiko away to be his sister, as the sister of the fox-host. It seemed like bad luck to give it back to her.

He looked at the necklace in silence, and Ino and Chouji moved on to speak to Asuma. The fox had no eyes, just holes to mark their place, but the shape of its head and the contours of it somehow gave the eyes it didn't have an alert look. Not malicious, but not benevolent either.

It was stupid, to read so much in to a necklace's pendant.

He put the necklace on, and the metal fox lay coldly against his skin.

He joined Chouji and Ino in front of Asuma. Their teacher looked like he was paying attention to the world, for once, and Shikamaru sensed there would be no time for cloud-watching or pleasant inattention today. He sighed, eyebrows angling down and eyes rolled up, and Asuma stubbed out his cigarette.

"Like I said, they've been forced to defer almost all decision-making until a new Hokage is appointed, which is good for us. The assignment of missions is still being ratified exclusively by the security council, but any further executive rights would have to be negotiated between the two councils or decided by referendum unless emergency powers were permitted, and that's not happening."

"Sensei..." Ino moaned.

"That was even more confusing than before..." Chouji added.

"Shikamaru, explain what I just said to your team-mates."

Shikamaru raised an eyebrow. Asuma would leave it to him to explain things, wouldn't he? And politics, nonetheless. That was annoying. And he was sure the jounin had confused them on purpose, just to make him elaborate on it all...

"Well, you know there are two councils of Konoha?"

"The ninja one and the civilian one," Chouji said.

"Yes. The 'ninja council' is Konoha's defensive and security council, which controls the village's shinobi, as well as the hospital and the staff of the gates. And inter-village communications. The representatives for the council are mostly retired jounin, theoretically appointed by the village council, but effectively chosen by the clan heads, because they argue that you need to be a ninja to choose ninja politicians. It's a sign of corruption, but no-one's ever stopped it.

"Um, then you have the municipal council. That's who village elections are for. They control things like taxes and build bath-houses and stuff, administrative things mostly, but they also deal with Fire Country politics more than the defence council does. They're chosen democratically, so any citizen of Konoha Village votes to elect the people on it. Actually, we can all vote for people on it, since genin are technically adults..."

"But what was that stuff Asuma said about decision-making and all that?"

"Well, basically," Shikamaru started, mentally complaining about the troublesome-ness of politics, "The Hokage has to approve any decision. Either council can put something forward to him, but neither of them can act on it without his say-so. And if the councils disagree on stuff – which they seem to do a lot - the Hokage comes up with a compromise. So without him there, they can't agree on how to govern Konoha. Plus the ninja council can't appoint chuunin without him there. Executive rights means the right to act on behalf of the village, which neither council has. So they'd have to ask everyone to vote to give them that ability (doing that's called a referendum). Right, is that everything?"

"It's too much," Ino snarked, "so why do we care?"

"Because the security council is made up of retired ninja, and none of them like me very much." Shikamaru said, leaning back in the grass. _Because most of them didn't retire, they were crippled by the Kyuubi. _

"Sucks be to you," Ino said, "What about the other council?"

"The Municipal Council-" Asuma started to say.

"The what?" Chouji interrupted.

"The village council," the jounin repeated, "is dominated by the Hyuuga clan and those in their influence. And they aren't too keen on Shikamaru."

"And when he says Shikamaru," Shikamaru said sarcastically to his team-mates, "he means the Kyuubi."

"Well, yeah." Asuma acknowledged, taking a drag on his cigarette. "Anyway, what I was going to tell you was that we have until the new Hokage is appointed to figure out how to market Shikamaru as a chuunin. But the Security Council kidnapped you before, so we also need to stay wary of plots by them."

"Fine."

"And we need to teach you all some new jutsu," Asuma said, with implausible enthusiasm.

Team Ten looked at him suspiciously. Asuma hadn't taught has team anything, and it was unlikely to them that he wanted to start doing so now.

"Can't get anything past you, can I? When I say we, I mean literally we. Kakashi disbanded his team until Naruto gets back, but that- um, Maito Gai - decided something like that means the 'youth of Konoha' need to band together and we in our roles as teachers should show solidarity by training together."

"So we're training with Kakashi?" Chouji asked, at the same time as Shikamaru said: "Can't his team train with Kakashi's, then?

Ino didn't say anything, but when they looked over, they realised she was lost of in thoughts of Sasuke-kun.

"I understand that the teams are pairing up, but switching pairs periodically. It's starting tomorrow, but... I wasn't really listening."

This was going to be troublesome, Shikamaru thought.

* * *

It was troublesome. The training started next day, and Team Ten regrouped outside Chouji's house. Shikamaru told them how one of Yoshino's friends had come over and the pair had fed the not yet awake Rumiko some herbal stuff, and how the diagnosis was that she was exhausted – she was asleep, not unconscious. Shikamaru didn't mention that he'd spent the night beside his sister, because he'd dreamed of the world of the Mangekyou sharingan.

But as they approached the training ground – which was still empty – Chouji asked a very good question:

"They don't know about the Kyuubi, do they?"

Shikamaru breathed out through his teeth. Just what I need, another thing to explain, more complications.

Ino and Chouji tried to think of convenient lies, but Shikamaru sat and then lay down on the wood-chips.

There were cumulonimbus clouds drifting lazily across, their ponderous size giving them the air of self-important lord and councillors. He didn't think they were scheming about him, but they weren't likely to intervene on his behalf with the Konoha council, so as he looked up, he felt vaguely cheated. I spend so long here, but...

He mused on what he must look like from above, cued to do so by Ino's comment about his changed appearance. Hair spread out to the sides, eyes very visible – I'm looking straight up. Chin sharp and neck too thin-looking, I'm scrawny... Heh. My hands look too wide and too heavy for my body, when they're resting on my stomach like that. The claws don't help, I imagine; I look undergrown and odd.

But from below – he pulled himself back into rational mode, because Team Eight needed to be talked to – he looked like a boy, and like a strange one. Clouds don't see, and if they did, their perspective would be very different . But Kiba, for one – he must be able to sense something about me...

They were coming. Shikamaru sat up partly, resting one hand on a knee and the other behind his back. He brushed his hair out of his face, and looked at Ino then Chouji.

They returned his looks: we'll let you talk.

And his hair flopped back down, hiding his eyes. He wasn't sure whether to brush it back or not, and he decided not because they were near enough that his clawed fingers would be hideously noticeable if he lifted them now.

This. Is. Troublesome.

He was scared of talking to them. It was a nasty fact, and one he'd like to deny, but it was true. Hinata and Shino he didn't really know, Kiba he had let copy his answers at the academy but never had a conversation with. But they were his peers, fellow genin, and somehow their disgust with him would hurt more than the village's.

But... they had no reason to be as prejudiced as others were.

Team Eight watched as Kurenai advanced to Asuma's side, and Kiba shrugged before coming to join Team Ten on the floor (Shikamaru hadn't noticed Ino and Chouji sit down by him), and his two team-mates followed silently.

Shikamaru saw a bug circle him, or maybe he'd detected it by feeling its chakra. He looked up, and the early sunlight caught his eye.

Kiba had been staring at him.

Shikamaru adjusted his hair by flicking his head to one side, getting it out of his eyes. He returned Kiba's look.

"Dude. What happened to you?" the Inuzuka asked, voice fairly quiet but emphatic nonetheless.

Shikamaru shifted his weight so he was leaning forwards, and looked at all three of the uninformed genin. Hinata's hands were nervously steepled, Shino was sitting a bit back, and from the angle of his head, he was watching Shikamaru too.

He looked at Hinata again – she'd been using her bloodline limit, he was sure, the byakugan. She'd been looking at about where the seal was on his stomach, too.

"It turns out, they didn't kill the Kyuubi no Kitsune," he started, telling the story as neutrally as he could, "You can't kill something like that, so the Fourth Hokage sealed it into a newborn kid. And it happens that that was me. An' when that Gaara tried to kill me and Naruto, I somehow called on the fox's chakra. So now I look like this."

He'd held his hands up to illustrate the last point, and he felt a little strange – nervous, because they were staring at him. He didn't trust them to understand, that was the problem. He'd known Chouji so well he hadn't been scared of rejection, but: he could feel Shino's stare, and Kiba was angled towards him and frowning, eyes fixed. He couldn't read those stares, didn't understand them. Hinata's look was shrinking and she was biting her lip and shifting as if she wanted to look away but couldn't, but he felt pinned down by her.

He'd been intent on the three, and on his own speech. But now he realised Chouji had one hand on his shoulder, but Ino was sitting back like a mother watching her child display an achievement to a doting audience.

What was she doing? He wondered. And he suddenly wanted out of this conversation. He shook his head, replacing the hair over his face to cover his eyes. He got up, saying – it doesn't change anything – and he walked away.

That didn't seem to have gone down too badly, Shikamaru thought, because Ino had said something behind him, and Kiba had agreed. He leant against a post, looking at the horizon and feeling calmer for the clouds there. He settled himself, smiling slightly – that wasn't so hard.

And Kurenai called over to them.

It was troublesome, but he'd cope.

* * *

This is a transition chapter, and in more than one ways. I'm starting on longer chapters, (which means longer update-waits), and this is the tentative new length. It gives me a bit more freedom, and means that when I go on holiday and away from computer-access for two weeks, it won't be quite so daunting. XD.

Would you rather have had this chapter up yesterday but cut off at the end of the politics-speech?


	14. Apologies lacking

Shikamaru was almost comforted by Kurenai – the woman adopted a strict tone that was obviously developed to cope with Kiba, and without delay she gave them a task: water walking. A year ago, he'd have been complaining for all he was worth; now, he was glad of the work, because it prevented any more awkward discussion.

Team Eight obviously already knew tree-climbing, since the genjutsu mistress told them it was similar to that. After a brief explanation, the six genin headed out to a river.

The river was some distance away from Konoha, and since the practice grounds themselves were on the edge of the town, their walk was through the forestland. Shino walked with Chouji and Shikamaru, silent and looking calmly ahead. He didn't _look_ at all bothered by the Kyuubi revelation, but then, who could tell what he was thinking? Nonetheless, Shikamaru was relieved by his unshaken appearance. He couldn't tell what Hyuuga Hinata thought: the clan heir was walking behind the three boys, but in front of Ino and Chouji, and whenever Shikamaru looked back, she had her face turned to the ground. The position made her eyes invisible behind her thick hair, and the only thing the position spoke of was meekness.

Ino and Kiba were strolling some distance behind the rest, talking loudly about Asuma and Kurenai being a couple. The Inzuka boy was disconcertingly loud, and Shikamaru wondered if he was over-acting to prove some kind of a point. But the real sign that Kiba wasn't somehow aggrieved was that Akamaru had run around Shikamaru, sniffed him, and jumped up to lick the shadow-user's hand. Shikamaru felt sure that Kiba wouldn't have allowed this gesture if he was scared or hateful toward him, so he made an effort to stop brooding on the results of his revelation.

Chouji asked Shikamaru if he did think there was something between Kurenai and Asuma. He considered it for a moment, and said it seemed more than likely. Chouji laughed quietly and said he didn't doubt it. Shino glanced at them, but didn't add anything.

When they arrived, Ino dropped herself onto a boulder on the riverbank, stretching luxuriantly. Shikamaru didn't feel any need to get near that water, so he leant back and made himself comfortable on the grass beside her – he'd train, but why start so soon? Chouji joined the other two, and Kiba (who'd walked out to where Shino stood by the river-bank) laughed and returned to continue the conversation he'd been having with Ino. Shikamaru was amused – clearly his team was a bad influence. Maybe they could convince the whole genin population to join in their slacking, and start a revolution.

But Hinata stood indecisively on the banks, twisting her fingers together. She looked at Shino, and – they realised he was going to attempt their task – everyone else did too. There was a moment of strange tension.

Then Shino silently walked out onto the water's surface, only to stumble and stoically drop through. He didn't attempt to balance, but a cloud of bugs buzzed away from him, which drew an alarmed and disgusted look from Ino.

Kiba laughed at her, and called for Hinata to attempt the task. Hinata ducked back, and the Inuzuka reluctantly stepped forward to Shino, who had dragged himself ashore, frowning under his shades with a tightly drawn mouth. Kiba crouched and sniffed the water, muttering about having to leave Akamaru on the bank. But Ino called out for him to have a go, and Chouji and Shikamaru echoed her - the Inuzuka couldn't even keep both feet on the surface for a second, but he laughed as he surfaced, and the awkwardness of training together was dispelled completely.

Ino marched forward:

"Leave it to an expert, Doggy-boy!"

And then Chouji tentatively tried it, then Shikamaru, then Shino and Hinata and Kiba, and soon enough the six were co-operating easily enough with advice. They got involved enough that they didn't notice the arrival of their teachers, or that the jounin had been holding hands.

Hinata mastered the skill first – Shikamaru was pretty sure she'd been competent at it from the start, and it had only been modesty keeping her back. She helped Kiba, and only reluctantly left the lake to practice genjutsu with Kurenai, who was looking much milder than she had in the morning. Asuma smiled over at her as she spoke to her student.

Kiba and Ino seemed to get on well, Shikamaru and Chouji both noticed. The kunoichi argued with Kiba, flicking water at him whenever she fell in, and dragging him under with her, but they seemed comfortable in each other's company, or perhaps it was just the social ease of two confident people together. Chouji and Shikamaru didn't know; they gave side-long looks to each other and wondered whether Sasuke was off the list of their friend's crushes.

Shino stood apart from the two pairs remaining – he could happily stand still on the water, after an hour's practice, but whenever someone fell in, the disruption would make him lose his balance and join them in the water. He kept his coat on, although Chouji's scarf and Shikamaru's jacket lay with Kiba's coat away from the water, drying out in the sun. Shikamaru wanted to know what he was thinking, although he'd never been curious about the enigmatic Aburame before. Did he sympathise with Shikamaru?

Shikamaru walked over the water to Shino, close enough to see that the bug user's hair was dripping with water and that a cloud of insects was hovering around him. The fox-host wobbled, unnerved by the creatures that looked like pins of chakra-energy, swirling around in an organic pattern. He didn't know how to ask what he wanted to ask.

Then Kiba crashed into him from the side, arms windmilling. Shikamaru's foot slipped under the water, but he twisted and landed on all fours, fingers spread and sending chakra down to steady him.

Shino's mouth twisted in a frown as water rippled.

Kiba balanced himself unsteadily, looking at Shikamaru and starting to apologise.

"Huh, it's easier to stay up like this," the fox-host observed, palms flat on the water.

It was. The lower centre of gravity and multiple contact points were working in his favour. But more than anything, being caught off balance had triggered reflexes to send him into a defensible position. Shikamaru wasn't sure what to make of it.

"Hey, I know!" Ino called, "Let's have a competition! Last one standing!"

She hooked Kiba's leg out from under him, grinning, and took up a stance. Shikamaru lifted his arms, eyes narrowing to predict her move.

Kiba propelled a wave of water out, using both arms, then dragged himself up.

And Shikamaru leapt, landing on Ino's back and overbalancing her, then hopping off to face off with Kiba. The dog-clan member had his hands on the water, still, and he darted across to crash into Chouji - who'd meant to stay out of the game – knocking the Akimichi in before being dragged down into an underwater tussle with Shikamaru.

* * *

Asuma needed Kurenai's prompting, but he did go over to break up the students' water-fight. (Hinata had watched, wondering if she could have joined in. She'd probably have been too awkward to, and she knew enough that she wouldn't fall, which would make her reluctant to attack anyone else. It hurt a bit, to see people able to be so spontaneous and comfortable with one another. Even Shikamaru, who'd been scared before...) But Asuma called Shikamaru out, and warned him against wearing wet clothes – you'll get pneumonia – before introducing the rest of the day's work. The other genin let the battle fall apart. 

"You need practice attacking efficiently," the jounin told the Nara, who was dripping but had ignored the suggestion that he undress. It was sunny enough.

Shikamaru was prompted to demonstrate the youki-based attack he'd started using – slashing while focusing youki around his clawed hands.

Asuma tsked, calling Hinata over, and the Hyuuga hesitantly told him that the attack was inefficient. Shikamaru was torn between being interested – after all, why waste energy? - and annoyed – he wasn't likely to run out of the borrowed youki, and it was going to be troublesome and pointless to train to use it better. But he was vaguely interested to hear Hinata's opinion, since she had the byakugan bloodline limit.

"Ah," she murmured, limit activated, and Asuma told Shikamaru to mould chakra. Kurenai was looking on, watching Hinata with an almost maternal gaze.

"You see, your energy – dissipates – when it is released from you... Only, it's not just dispersing, it's reacting with the air and – I don't know how to explain it if you can't see - it's like, as if it is burning. You're not moulding the energy - you can't, can you, because it naturally disrupts any order placed on it. It's similar to elemental chakra, but it's not obvious to me how you're manipulating it. Also, I can see that it reacts with other energy, especially chakra, to – over-run it. That is why it is – unnatural to us – it seems to invade, to attack life-energy and chakra. I said it disrupts things, and that counts chakra. It breaks up human chakra, and interferes with our thoughts – that causes us to fear it on a - visceral level."

"Oh, okay." Shikamaru said, feeling vaguely distressed. Ino must have been badly hurt by hanging on to him while he set himself on fire with youki, if it was inimical to other forms of energy. If it interfered with 'thoughts'._ Does she mean neural transmission?_ _That would explain the paralysis it caused._

"Thanks, Hinata," Asuma said, waving the dark-haired girl away with a smile before turning back to his student, "Shikamaru, knock that post down with chakra."

Shikamaru frowned; if he used too much energy, people would sense it and get freaked out because of the presence of the 'Kyuubi'. Hadn't Hinata just confirmed that?

He voiced his concerned, but Asuma waved his hand dismissively.

"What I want you to try and do is focus your chakra into a denser shape, so less of it spills away. If you can master the skill, you can stop it leaking into other people's chakra coils. And the stuff she said it was doing," he shrugged, then said: "Watch."

Asuma pulled out his trench knife, slipped it over his knuckles, backed off, then focussed and smashed into the post with the weapon, which was now glowing with chakra. The wood had a wedge-shaped slice gouged out of it when he lowered his fist.

"That strike uses energy concentrated enough that it takes on visible form; with chakra, it is easy to give such energy the properties of a solid. But you need to learn to manipulate the properties of the Kyuubi's energy. Try to emulate that attack – I want to see you using energy like a blade."

Shikamaru nodded.

* * *

He returned home tired. He'd made progress in the task he'd been set, but throughout the day he'd felt despondent – his old, lazy life was almost gone, destroyed by the overhanging threat of Akatsuki and the village. He'd been hopeful, last month, that letting his friends in on his secret would mean the hostility of other people wouldn't bother him, but that hadn't been true. As he'd walked back through the village, he'd been followed by nervous and resentful looks. 

He slipped his sandals off in the long hall of his house, wiggling his toes and then just stretching. His arms were stiff, the muscles aching after the efforts he'd put into controlling his chakra. Youki, rather. And not really his... Che, it was too troublesome.

His toe-nails clicked against the floorboards, and that one sound prompted him to listen – it had intruded a the back-ground sound of voices, voices that were so familiar he hadn't registered them. Did that mean Shikaku was back? Rumiko was awake?

The voices were both female, and – yes, one was his sister's. Slightly hoarse, but recognisable nonetheless.

He pushed his sister's door open, to see his mother sitting on the bed beside her. Both women smiled as he entered, and he was immediately struck by the fact his sister had taken her braids out, which left her with a mass of surprisingly light-coloured fluffed-out hair.

But then Rumiko's eyebrows pinched together, she blinked sleep-encrusted eyelashes, and then gasped.

"Shit." She bit out, voice distant as she voiced the expletive. But then she spoke faster, immediately and angrily: "_Shit!_ I remember now, what I needed to tell you two. It's Imn, she was taken too and they've done something, shit shit-shit-_shit!_"

"Oh, dear. Calm down now, deep breaths..." Yoshino soothed her daughter.

Shikamaru resisted the urge to scratch something with the claws his fingernails made. It was very tempting. He felt angry, at both himself and Akatsuki and fate in general. He felt just a little helpless, and –_ unfairly _-annoyed at Rumiko for caring so much about a stranger that she'd be unhappy despite her safe return. He wanted to be proud of himself for carrying off that mission, but he knew he couldn't be, because he hadn't done all he could and her grief would remind him of that.

He left Rumiko's room – he couldn't say anything to comfort her, and he wasn't needed.

But he couldn't bring himself to go far away – he rested against the wall in the hall, directly outside her room. He kept his back straight and forced his shoulder-blades to touch the hard surface he was leaning against. He looked at the opposite wall, straight ahead. _She's crying, my sister's crying. _

And he forced himself to remember that room, the room they'd only looked into for a second.

Shikamaru didn't move until he heard them stand up inside Rumiko's bedroom, and then he went into his own room. _That's enough – I can't do anything about it_. He had a go at distracting himself by concentrating the development of an efficient attack._ Anyway, it might be useful soon._

The problem with the Kyuubi's youki was that it naturally tried to expand to cover everything it could. It was attracted to chakra because the two were polarised – he'd seen with Gaara's attacks and his own that youki could forestall any chakra attacks, nullifying the properties that the process of 'moulding' gave it. Since his transformation, Shikamaru couldn't have used much ninjutsu even if he'd known it, because youki could not be moulded into a controllable form – he'd been lucky that the _kagemane_ was easily emulated with the fox's energy. That was only because the youki was easily directed towards people, who were stores of chakra, and it naturally had the effect of paralysis.

The shadow-user doubted that he'd ever be able to use genjutsu. Not that he'd had any intention of doing so. _But now I think about it, it wouldn't be too hard to learn how to use the effect the Kyuubi's energy has on people naturally and make a kind of fear genjutsu... _

But who would he practise such a thing on? He'd wanted to speak to Ino and ask her about possessing him – he remembered when she was clinging to his mind, her thoughts being reduced to jumbled senses of emotion - 'fear' and 'panic'.

He needed to apologise, he needed to talk to her.

Hinata had said that the Kyuubi's energy affected 'life energy' – did she mean chakra, or something more fundamental? Surely there _wasn't_ anything 'more fundamental', though, at least nothing that the byakugan could see.

Shikamaru cut this train of thought off viciously, returning to how to create blades of energy. Under Asuma's watchful eye, he'd learnt – more or less – how to contain the Kyuubi's energy somewhat. He did it instinctively when he attacked, but all the times he'd done that thus far, he'd been channeling such a lot of youki that it had been simple to send a large amount of it into one place. It was much more difficult to do the same thing when there was less latent power in his chakra coils.

There had to be a short-cut. Hadn't Ino said that he found a lazy way to do anything?

By the time he came to dinner, he'd lost himself in ideas.

* * *

Yoshino and Rumiko were both subdued at the dinner table, and his sister's eyes were red and her cheeks were tear-stained. Her hair had been tied back in a loose ponytail, but she'd made no other concessions to appearance. Shikamaru looked at her and felt guilty again, and hated it. 

They all ate in silence.

Leaving the table, Rumiko stood up. She seemed calm, but her fingers trailed on the table-top as she straightened herself. The tips touched her knife, an old piece of cutlery that was heavy and sharp.

Shikamaru realised a second before she acted that she was unsteady, and jolted to his feet, taking in the fact that she was biting the inside of her cheek below her lower lip from the shape of her mouth, taking in the loose appearance of her face and the sudden convulsion of muscles. He lifted his hands, and Rumiko looked at him in alarm.

And then she gripped and stabbed with the knife in one motion, bearing her teeth (Shikamaru registered the green of a remaining piece of salad behind her lower right incisor) in a doubtless automatic motion. She stabbed the implement cleanly through her plate.

"I'll killUchiha."

The knife's tip had cut an indent into the old table, and the plate was in three pieces, with smaller shards. Crazed cracks were visible under the remaining sauce, and the table was starting to stain as the liquid ran through the breaks. All three of the Nara stared at it for a long moment, then Rumiko whirled and ran out.

Shikamaru heard the front door open, and he listened fixedly for the retreating footsteps as she ran down the path, which then became inaudible, muffled by grass.

Yoshino stood, one hand pressing down hard on her side of the table.

He turned back to his mother, trying not to see that she was upset and vulnerable. Scared, even. Excesses of emotion weren't easy to deal with. But Shikamaru thought that it was - in some ways - his fault that Rumiko was so distraught, so he told Yoshino: "I'll go after her."

He needed to be there for his sister.

* * *

If you're looking for more stuff to read, please check out my C2 community! And if you have suggestions to add to it, please let me know!

Also, please tell me what you think about the character interactions. Particularly Team Ten - are they in-character? It's hard to write so many people in one scene, I kept having to do a mental head-count on them. Please review!


	15. Abjection

Shikamaru found Rumiko curled up in a tree-branch in the forest, crying. One of her hands was holding her own hair, horrifyingly tight: she'd put the back of her hand against her head, curled the fingers around her mass of hair, then forced her hand to turn over, and the action had caught her wispy hair and condensed it into a tight dark shape. Her face was white, and Shikamaru thought of the visions of the mangekyou sharingan. It wasn't safe for Rumiko to be here, and he was never going to allow her out to fight Itachi. Itachi would kill her.

Shikamaru approached slowly, because she was too emotional.

"Sorry, Rumiko," he breathed, "I'm sorry we didn't get her back."

Rumiko looked up.

"Just come back to the house, okay?"

Her hand slowly untangled itself from her hair, and she shook her head a little bit. It didn't seem to be a refusal to come back, not really.

Her hand was shaking as she slowly lowered it to her lap. Shikamaru moved nearer her, crouched carefully on the branch because it seemed unstable.

His eyes must be very wide, he realised, and tried to school his face back to neutral. (The thought reminded him of his altered appearance, and he wondered if - to her - he looked like a devil in this sunset, red eyes and hair messy over his face, crouching like a predator preying on the crying girl in with her back to a treetrunk.)

He needed to calm her down. How?

"Look, she has family, doesn't she? Rich family, they can go up against the Akatsuki. I'm sure they can."

It was obvious that he wasn't convinced by himself, though, he knew. Or was it? His sister seemed very far away, almost unrecognisable. He'd hardly even known that she had a girlfriend, but Imn had obviously become central to Rumiko's existence, as much as any family member was.

Eventually, (despite the awkwardness,) he moved in closer and hugged her, and she collapsed onto him as her tears and choking turned into full-blown sobs.

* * *

When he bought her back, Shikaku was in the kitchen, talking gravely to his wife over a cup of tea. He and Yoshino both looked up, gratitude in their eyes. Another family crisis averted. Shikamaru carried Rumiko to her bed and laid her down, pushing the hair away from her nose and eyes. Her hair was frizzy and messy, her face was tear-stained. She looked very unlike the proud and independent version of his sister who had come back home recently, even less like the outspoken girl who wore make-up and chose her clothes with diligence.

He couldn't help Rumiko any further. He went back to talk to his father.

Nara Shikaku had been sent on an A-rank diplomatic mission, to act as an ambassador to a somewhat dubious village that was sending mercenaries on missions and purporting to be a rival to the Hidden Villages. He'd been expected to spend at least two weeks there.

Shikamaru had known there was something wrong with it.

"... I was reasonably certain, yes." Shikaku finished

"What's that, dad?" Shikamaru asked.

"The mission I was sent on had never been approved by any of Konoha's authorities. The village was a death-trap, effectively; they sell assassinations, and it's made up of missing-nin. It's a centre for gangster networks all over Fire Country. We didn't believe that they were agreeing to talks, and, naturally, they weren't."

"How did you find that out? You didn't go there, did you?"

"No. Inoshi and I spent the time finding out who was behind the counterfeited mission papers, and we have some idea, now. Of course, Adiurat, who gave me the paper, was one of them."

"A front-man?" Shikamaru asked, leaning against the kitchen counter lazily. He'd wondered what the senior Nara would think about the matter of his son, Kyuubi, and the village's feelings on both of the above. But that worry seemed unimportant now, so he joined in the conversation as if he had a right to be there. And his dad accepted it, replying easily:

"He's more important than that."

"That rat-bastard's probably behind it all," Yoshino added, leaning over and slapping Shikamaru's hand away from the fruit-bowl on the counter. "And sit _down_ if you want to join in with a grown-up conversation."

Shikamaru took a seat at the table, mouth curving in amusement. His dad had the same expression, he noticed. But – looking harder – his father's face was tired. The elder Nara's hair was slipping out of its pony-tail, and his eyes were sloping down wearily and had bags under them.

"Adiurat..." Shikamaru mused "You said he was hurt by the Kyuubi, he must have been a ninja at that time. He moves like one, and he's on the security council. He was a jounin, then?"

"Indeed."

"Did he.. have a genin team?" Shikamaru remembered the other person at the council that had caught his attention, a dark, scarred man, and wondered if that look had told him he was going to lose someone he loved. It had been a cruel look, triumphant, and it wouldn't surprise him if that man had been in on the plan. The ages had looked right for him to have been Adiurat's student.

"He did, and one member of it died in the fox's attack. The other two married each other four years later, both at chuunin rank. They left the ninja profession then, though, and there's no reason to suspect that they have any involvement in this."

That was not a valid line of reasoning to pursue, then. Chuunin didn't have seats on the council. Shikamaru moved on mentally.

They talked, until Yoshino finally disbanded the conversation. Shikamaru, apparently, still had to get up in the morning and learn, despite everything. To train, he needed his eight hours of sleep. _Mothers._

Shikaku and Shikamaru shared a long-suffering look, but nevertheless Shikamaru went to bed not feeling unhappy with the world. It was good to have his family back, despite the state they were in.

* * *

The next week was characterised by a determined optimism that still occasionally sent Shikamaru into shock (when he realised just how mature he was being about things). He practised focusing his chakra to cut through things, impressing Asuma with his efforts. His father spent a lot of time contacting people or sitting in his armchair, grimly thoughtful. His old team had come back together, and thanks to Inoshi they had uncovered more members of a conspiracy.

Shikamaru didn't tell Ino and Chouji any details on what his father had said when he'd come back, and their families didn't either.

Rumiko didn't tell anyone what _she_ was thinking, but Shikamaru tried to look after her anyway.

It partly worked; his sister stopped crying constantly, but she started retreating into herself. She hadn't left the Nara lands, and she'd packed everything in her room up as if she was planning to leave. She'd also cut her hair off, leaving it short enough to stand up in spikes. Shikamaru rather thought she would have shaved it if she could have. He was glad she hadn't, the brutal cut already changed her appearance enough that he winced to see her. It gave her the look of someone mad, frowning dark eyebrows and careless, bleak clothing and permanently fixed look.

He hoped she'd get better.

* * *

At the start of the next week, Team Ten arrived at the river-bank to find their counterparts absent. That wasn't good. Although Shikamaru hadn't been working with Team Eight, Ino had been training productively with Hinata (and taking an interest in her new friend on a more personal level: "that girl badly needs to be more outgoing, and just a touch of lavender eye-shadow would do wonders!"), and Chouji and Kiba had both gained a lot from working together in taijutsu. Shino, Shikamaru wasn't sure about. He probably wouldn't miss them, though. He'd been working on... something. On his own. No contact had been made between him and Team Ten.

When Asuma appeared to fill his confused students in on the change of activities... things got a little bit worse. They were working with a different Team now, and it was Team Seven. The team whose only redeeming feature had been that it had Naruto in. But there was no Naruto in sight; he was travelling with the sannin Jiraiya.

Shikamaru looked at Ino's adoring face, then across to Sasuke's half-sneer of annoyance as Sakura and Ino became engaged in cat-fighting.

_This'll be troublesome._

* * *

I wouldn't have posted this yet, since it's all short, but I'm going on holiday to Belgium and so will be away from computers and the internet for two weeks. Sorry, folks, but there won't be any updates for a while. 


	16. Anchored Mind

The week of working with Team Eight had been good for Shikamaru. He'd been working alone most of the time, but he'd been working hard on things that needed him to think, and that kept him from fretting about things. Maybe Asuma had organised that on purpose, because the laid-back jounin was an intelligent enough man to realise that this kind of diversion was more effective at distracting the fox-host than any amount of conversation or company.

Either way, Shikamaru had had a productive week in terms of training. He'd taught himself to mould youki into a 'blade', compacting the flame-like energy until it was oblique, immobile, and as deep a red as blood. He'd taught himself to shape a blade that ran parallel to the bones in his lower arm and beyond them, extending from his elbow to about a foot beyond his outstretched fingers. This weapon could cut through wood and melt through common metal (well-made weaponry was only distorted slightly by the condensed youki, but it still heated up enough that the wielder would need to drop it), heating the air around it in a field only visible from the way it distorted the air. It didn't burn Shikamaru because the heat radiated out away from him, like the field influenced by a magnet.

By thinking - learning - about things like this, he avoided worrying about his sister. Rumiko had remained virtually silent throughout the week. She'd spent most of it inside the house, cooking and tidying things without being asked. Displacement activity, Shikamaru had diagnosed. She'd packed and unpacked and arranged and rearranged things in her room, she'd listlessly started playing an old board game only to give up and arrange the pieces according to some unseen order. She hadn't answered any questions asked to her for the first few days; later, she'd responded to queries that asked for fact. She wouldn't give her opinion on anything, not even specifying whether she'd like green tea or water. She'd start eating but stop randomly. She'd take showers and stand under the water without washing herself, she'd stay still until someone entered her room only to leave without a word at the intrusion.

Not thinking about her only worked while he was out of the house. He was hideously worried whenever he was reminded of her state; the concerns all resurfaced as soon as he saw her. Fears grew in his mind throughout the night, and he could only vanquish them and let himself sleep by losing his mind in logic. The clouds helped less and less, he hadn't been able to spend more than five minutes staring at them, because when his mind was empty things came back to scare him.

If Rumiko tried to kill herself, she would do it when neither he nor their mum nor their dad was present. And there would be opportunities. He couldn't help but be reminded of this whenever he left the house.

* * *

And he'd slip back to worrying about it at random times during the day. So much so that he'd forget his surroundings; it took Kakashi's voice to bring him back to the present. Well, not so much Kakashi's voice as the fact that the voice was coming from behind him, when he'd been at the back of the group a minute ago (he'd been trying to be unobtrusive, because even though a lot had happened since he'd last seen Sasuke, he remembered the Uchiha's intention to fight him and wanted to avoid such a thing). 

Kakashi had said something about his inattention and laziness, he realised. He blinking and turned to face his temporary instructor.

"And now you're all listening like a good little class of five, I'll tell you what we're doing." Kakashi chirped. He sounded unreasonably glib for someone who'd seemed irritated a moment ago.

The class of five all focused their attentions on their teacher, though Sasuke and Sakura's glances strayed to examine Shikamaru speculatively as well. Sasuke's gaze bordered on hostile, while Sakura's was evaluating but not judgemental. Shikamaru wondered how many rumours about him they'd heard.

"We're going to have a couple of practice matches. One team will have a scroll, the other team will try and get it off them within two minutes." He produced two scrolls from his kunai pouch (Shikamaru wondered how there was room for any weapons in it, given that the Icha Icha book and those scrolls fitted in there), and threw one to Chouji and one to Sasuke.

"Now, the interesting part is this: there'll be two separate rounds, one with my Team Seven defending their scroll, one with you lot-" (he gestured at the aforesaid 'lot') "-defending yours. But you can only use each person in one of the rounds– they can't take part in both fights."

"But, sensei-" Sakura said "We have one less person."

"Aa," Kakashi said, nodding once, "One of you two can fight twice, but only one. Now, teams, decide who you want to do what and when."

He shooed them to separate corners of the empty practice field.

* * *

"Shikamaru's the best choice for the person defending the scroll..." Ino pointed out, once the two teams had separated enough to speak in private. 

Chouji frowned. "He's fastest, yeah, but your illusions could buy us that much time."

"Not if Sasuke's on the attacking team. Uchiha." Shikamaru said, sitting down crosslegged with his chin in his hands. "And he'll almost certainly be the one to fight twice."

Chouji nodded. Sasuke was arrogant like that.

"So you think you should defend, Shikamaru?" Ino asked. It wasn't a challenging question, he was glad to hear. The blond girl seemed to be focussed on the problem of how to arrange their team, not on Sasuke-worship or Sakura-rivalry or such things.

Shikamaru took a moment to think it through. Possible strategies, combinations of people. His shadow bind was an excellent delaying tactic, he was better at using chakra to aid movement than either of his allies. He thought he was capable of evading any or all of Team Seven for the requisite two minutes. But Chouji's meat tank combined with Ino's mind switch and genjutsu was also a feasible strategy. Could Shikamaru attack? He could bind the scroll-holder, but if that was Sakura and Sasuke was defending her, he would probably not be able to keep up the bind while dodging katon jutsus aimed with the sharingan. And his youki-blade attack was not appropriate for this situation, since he had no idea how it could be made harmless. He had devised a few other ways of moulding youki, but none that were effective as weapons. That considered, the obvious solution was to have him defending and Ino paired with Chouji attacking.

These deductions took ten seconds.

"I'll defend on my own, while you two take the attack."

They didn't ask for his reasoning, and he felt just a bit proud that they trusted him to know best in strategies like this.

"Do you think they'll both defend or both attack?" Chouji asked, pragmatically.

Shikamaru frowned and looked at the sky, thinking. "It's hard to say... if I were him, I'd have two defendants. He's not convinced that Sakura's useful, so he'll probably have Sakura holding the scroll and try to keep you guys from getting near her."

"So... we should try and attack Sakura without fighting him," Ino suggested, "because she'll have the scroll."

"But he'll expect that." Shikamaru pointed out. "Hmm, maybe say something about you can tell Sakura's got the scroll, pretend like you think she's a decoy, and then Chouji can throw a smoke-bomb, use the growth jutsu and charge, and Ino: you can make a bunshin of yourself or pretend to use the shintenshin when you haven't, while you really get close to Sakura or mind-switch with her."

They considered that plan, and Ino put on a mocking voice and prepared her lines: "As _if_ Sasuke-kun would _really_ let someone as unworthy as _**you**_ take the scroll, forehead girl!"

"Maybe that's overdoing it a bit, Ino" Chouji laughed.

"Oh?" Kakashi said, casually approaching the group.

Ino frowned at them both.

"Are you all ready?"

* * *

They were ready enough, because they'd have to adapt their plans depending on what Team Seven did. It turned out Team Ten was playing the defence role first, so Shikamaru stepped up alone, while Sakura and Sasuke conferred quietly. As the fox-host had guessed, Sasuke was face him without Sakura. (What he didn't know was that they'd been planning to have both members of Team Seven attack until that moment, but Sasuke wanted to face the Nara boy alone. Since Naruto had left, he'd been lacking for a rival.) 

"So you'll be evenly matched in both matches, then." Kakashi spoke.

Shikamaru had the impression he'd wanted them to choose differently. Maybe he'd hoped they'd produce innovative plans depending on perceived advantages... But Sasuke had an intense expression on his normally impassive face, and Shikamaru was reminded he couldn't be complacent. The Uchiha knew more jutsus than him, and was probably better trained to react fast in taijutsu. The sharingan would go a long was towards negating the speed advantage Shikamaru had, and catching Sasuke in the shadow bind was too much to hope for, unless the Uchiha really slipped up.

"Start!" Kakashi called.

Sasuke charged at him, sharingan appearing immediately.

And Shikamaru suddenly realised that he really didn't know what to do. His mind kicked into an almost panicked state of overdrive, directed by his own instincts and the fox's, but focused on strategy. Time seemed to slow down: s_hould I run to buy time?_ -_ No_ (he answered himself mentally),_ it's what he'll expect! - I oughtn't get close to him, but I'm not precise enough to rely on throwing kunai_. (_move on and think!_ Shikamaru told himself).

Despite his haste, within half a second of frantic thought Shikamaru had created a feasible plan.

He held his ground, gathering youki.

Sasuke threw five shuriken, then angled himself in midair so he'd land to the side of Shikamaru, positioned ready to catch him with taijutsu attacks when he dodged the projectiles.

Shikamaru didn't dodge. The only other move he'd perfected that used youki energy as a solid suface was much simpler than the sword-like attack. It created a 'wall' that deflected anything solid, so long as it was light and moved fast. The wall stayed in place for two seconds, and it wouldn't stand up to ninjutsu attacks, but it was more than enough for these. And it had a side-effect – anything that hit it dispersed the energy. Some went towards the one who'd raised the barrier, and was reabsorbed. Some arced outwards. And this was youki, energy that caused intense fear in those not adapted to it. So when it hit Sasuke, it would temporarily disable him.

As the shuriken flew towards Sasuke, Shikamaru held his right arm out, forearm parallel with his body, hand facing outwards, and turned sharply, drawing a fiery shield in the empty air. The shield expanded in a semi-circle around the jinchuuriki, growing in length, as the shuriken continued on their path towards it.

They hit. Huge sparks flew outwards from the barrier, and Sasuke pulled back at the last minute (he'd been about to leap forward with a punch). The Uchiha's sharingan reverted to the flat black of his normal eyes as he staggered, unnerved and disorientated.

Shikamaru made the most of his respite, and left an ill-made bunshin in his place as he dashed off into the undergrowth.

* * *

Sasuke took only a second to recover from the strike (_what the hell was that attack?!,_ his mind screamed). A crude decoy stood where his opponent had been, its eyes vacant and body slightly misproportioned. He considered the possibility that it was a weird double bluff, and dispelled it with the throw of a kunai just in case. It burst into smoke, and he ran off, angry for having wasted a second. He had a time limit, after all. 

Only as the trail Shikamaru had left became better concealed did he re-engage his sharingan bloodline.

* * *

Shikamaru smirked, and hopped through the trees faster. He made sure to try and hide himself as well as he could, but also to keep Sasuke away from the clearing. 

Because if Sasuke caught on to the fact that the scroll he was after had been henge'd into a stone and left behind, hidden only by that clone, Team Ten would have been completely screwed.

* * *

Kakashi had seen Shikamaru perform a hasty henge no jutsu before creating his even more rushed bunshin as an extra (obvious) decoy, and his eye had curved up into a smile. Not an especially happy one, though, because although the Nara's use of the Kyuubi's energy had been extremely clever, and the whole plan had been very well executed, Shikamaru was starting to worry him. The boy was clearly a good enough tactician to be a chuunin, but the ease with which he'd assimilated the Kyuubi-given abilities into his skill set was unnerving. And the council wouldn't like it, and it _definitely_ wouldn't help in Asuma's plan to have him given a chuunin qualification. 

Still, it was interesting. And Sasuke could learn a lot from the strategies the seemingly-lazy genin put together.

Speaking of... Sasuke crashing through the undergrowth, kicked off from a tree to dodge a kunai. Kakashi looked at the timer counting up to two minutes. 1 minute 48 seconds had passed, that left less that a quarter of a minute for his student to retrieve the scroll. But it was undefended and close enough for him to make it.

Sasuke re-entered the clearing that the three remaining genin and their teacher (and the scroll) were in. He circled it, sharingan eyes sweeping the across the floor until they spotted the now-unconcealed and obviously out of place stone.

Shikamaru appeared on a tree-branch, and stood up from the crouch he'd landed in.

Sasuke's dashed straight towards the scroll, not registering shadows as he focused on his goal.

"Gotcha," Shikamaru said.

And the kagemane clicked into place, a thin red line between them that sprang up and played across the black-clothed Uchiha's body in translucent patterns.

"Seven seconds left," Kakashi commented, as Sasuke snarled something. His hands shook, and his snarl turned to a furious _hiss_. Shikamaru turned to make Sasuke face away from the scroll, just in case the bind got broken. He was fighting it.

The flames grew brighter over Sasuke's hands. The energy he was putting in to breaking the lock meant the bind needed more power, and it drew on the latent energy Shikamaru was generating. Sasuke was struggling strongly, and it made him look strange, and almost as demonic as Shikamaru. The red contrasted with his black clothing, the flame-like unpredictable movement made it look like Sasuke's skin was moving, like there was a pattern shifting across it.

Shikamaru had to actively reinforce the bind, and he found himself sweating. Maybe this kind of bind was less efficient than the true kagemane; if not, Sasuke was _good_ at chakra manipulation, and strong.

"Four." The jounin observed, voice tense. Shikamaru gritted his teeth. Sasuke's exposed skin was crimson and black, the darker patches seemed like they were moving. The white of the fan insignia had turned blood-red, his shorts deep damson-purple, the flames of the bind were luminous against his black tee-shirt. Shikamaru saw him as an abstract construction made in those colours, his mind's efforts were reduced to holding up the bind. If he let Sasuke go, he'd not only let his team down, he'd invite future challenges and he'd be required to explain his methods of attack and his role as a demon-host. If he won he could smirk and dismiss it, along with any future challenges. He'd show them he could do this

"Three. Two. One. It's over."

Shikamaru lowered his hands from the seal they'd been in, and the digits were shaking.

* * *

Sasuke stumbled as his legs finally obeyed him, and fell. Black markings receded from his skin, crawling back to a central mark on his neck. (Shikamaru had leant against a tree to support himself, and didn't see this. But Kakashi, Sakura, Ino and Chouji did.)

Kakashi knelt by his student, but Sasuke pushed himself to his feet. His teacher pulled him round so they were face-to-face, and made a quiet but severe inquiry. Sasuke answered in an undertone, looking over at Ino - who was on her feet and eavesdropping.

Kakashi blinked at this display of concern from the Yamanaka. Sakura, he'd expected to listen in, but he'd forgotten the blonde was an admirer of Sasuke's.

"Are you okay, Sasuke-kun?" Sakura said, moving her team-mate's side. Sasuke looked at her stonily, and then made a grudgingly affirmative noise.

Kakashi shrugged and took a step back from them, deciding to confront Sasuke later. For now, it'd be safer to drop the issue. He moved to face all the genin. "Right, take five minutes to plan your next moves. You know who you're facing now, you can strategise better."

* * *

Team Ten moved out, Ino and Chouji exchanging glances and tacitly deciding to dismiss the weirdness of Sasuke's fall. It seemed like it must have been an odd side effect of Shikamaru's bind. Only when they were a safe distance from their opponents did Chouji feel safe in smiling broadly and clapping the his victorious jinchuuriki friend on the shoulder.

"You beat the _Uchiha!"_

And Shikamaru felt himself grin in return. The Kyuubi deal didn't really seem so bad right then, when it gave him the means to trick - and win against – the kind of bloodline-wielding 'genius' who his teachers had told him he ought to emulate throughout his academy years.

Yup, Shikamaru was proud of himself.

... At least until Ino smacked him and Chouji over the head, defensivee of her crush. He didn't seem likely to beat Sasuke in any upcoming popularity contests.

* * *


	17. Attack and Amnesty

The states of mind of Team Seven were rather less jubilant than those of Team Ten. Sasuke's face was blank, Kakashi's visible eye was sternly focused on his student. Sakura was agitated, and as soon as Asuma's team was out of earshot she made it obvious why.

"You really are a lazy, good-for-nothing, late, _perverted_ _IDIOT OF A SENSEI__!"_

She was furious, Kakashi realised. He made himself analyse the cause of the rage: principally, it was fear (he didn't need the sharingan to read it in her eyes, or to her concern for her team-mate in her body language). Listening to the emotion in her voice, he heard her accusations that he had failed to do his duty. That he had failed his team, in her opinion, by letting Sasuke start to lose himself to the seal.

Kakashi was getting tired of the feeling his team was angry with him. He cared for all three of them, and he sincerely wanted to believe that Team Seven would be reunited and that they'd perfect the art of team-work. He hoped it would come true. He'd ask Obito's grave if Sasuke and Naruto would be able to share their friendship and their rivalry for longer than they had.

But before he think about do that, he had to sort out the more immediate bump in the road towards co-operation and trust. He'd known that it would seem irresponsible to Sakura for him not to step in, but the risks of doing so outweighed the benefits. How could he explain to her? He thought

"_-_So_ why_ didn't you stop that fight?!"

And by the time she'd finished her rant, he knew what to say.

"Maa, Sakura. Calm down and think about it," the jounin said, settling himself in a leaning position against a tree.

"Think about what?" snapped the kunoichi, but her face took on the studious look that meant she was applying her considerable brain-power to the problem. But after a few moments of silence, he decided to step in.

"If I had interfered, I would have run the risk of starting a major fight. Sasuke, you were furious with Shikamaru, weren't you?"

Sasuke looked to the side, face set with Uchiha stoicism. He nodded curtly.

"And the curse seal feeds off rage. If I'd moved in, I'd have broken Shikamaru's bind. That jutsu's unstable. And that would have left Sasuke free to jump Shikamaru. Shikamaru would most likely have fought back, and then he would have analysed Sasuke's chakra and started making guesses about it. (So would the rest of Team Ten, and they'd most likely not keep the situation quiet.). So basically, if I interfered, we'd get an all-out fight and it'd take longer than five seconds to stop it, and there'd be that much more information going round about Sasuke. As it was: the seal didn't fully activate; Shikamaru's bind obscured the change in his chakra; it was all over quick. See?"

They were both thoughtful, and Sasuke nodded. Kakashi grinned at them, then produced his Icha Icha book.

"Still, he shouldn't have..." Sakura started.

Sasuke turned away from his mentor, brushing a hand through his hair in a weary gesture. His dark eyes were distant.

His shoulders were raised stiffly, almost hunched. Sakura saw him as a child, for the first time in her life. She wondered what was wrong – at first, she feared that it was the effect of the seal – and she realised what she'd said and how she'd been acting. She'd treated the matter as if Kakashi was responsible for making Sasuke behave himself, and as if the activation of the curse seal wasn't Sasuke's fault so much as ... something like the action of a naughty child, something distasteful but nigh-on inevitable. Sasuke was proud, and he was in a bad situation, and he was feeling helpless and belittled now. She, Sakura, was not helping by his problem as something for Kakashi to deal with. And she was failing as a team-mate if she acted like the only contribution she could make was to hassle their teacher.

She wanted to keep Sasuke safe and happy, so she should talk to him. And she should apologise. She turned to face him, moving beside him so he was only half turned away.

"Sorry, Sasuke."

His eyes shifted to look at her, though his face was still turned away. The black irises glittered through his long eyelashes, and for a moment she thought he was crying. He wasn't; he was annoyed at her.

"Why?" It was a brusque question, almost a sneer.

"I just... Let me know if I can do anything to help you, okay, Sasuke-kun?"

He folded his arms and took a couple of steps away, turning so his back was to her again. Sakura watched him, and she realised he had nearly lost his composure. He'd nearly lost hold of the Uchiha _sang-froid_ that had always been one of his most impressive traits.

She couldn't help looking for it, but she couldn't see the mark of the curse seal as he walked off. She moved to follow him, staying slightly behind.

"Kids!" Kakashi called, before they had moved out of ear-shot of the clearing; "Back in five minutes, okay?"

Sasuke continued walking, but he didn't speed up to get away from her; his pace was the default speed Team Seven walked at.

She took it as an invitation to follow, but she didn't want to risk speaking.

It seemed like a long time, they walked for, but less than a minute passed until he stopped and sat, his back to a tree.

Sakura faced him, head down. It took her a few seconds to decide to sit – the atmosphere was serious, and she couldn't help but be scared. The upcoming conversation could make or break her relationship with him (and part of her wondered if it was the start of love...).

She was nervous about telling him he was vulnerable. He and Naruto had guarded her, let her get away without pulling her weight in the Team (she had always been harsh on herself, within her own mind).

The truth was, she'd thought at the time that by cutting her hair off she'd made herself into her male team-mates' equal. When she'd stood guard over Naruto and Sasuke in the Forest of Death she'd seen that they may be stronger than her but they weren't always going to be strong enough. She'd realised that she had to be able to help them, be able to stand beside them. She'd made it a resolution to do so. She'd cut her hair, given up her girlish intention to please and replaced it with something more powerful: the aim to do what's right.

But now she knew that had been an empty gesture. She'd proved it when all she could do during the fight with Gaara was carry Sasuke away from the fight. She hadn't made herself into a strong kunoichi at all; it had fallen to Naruto to save the day.

So she had to do it now – not in an epic fight, but by saving Sasuke from something more dangerous: himself. Naruto wasn't even here, and Sasuke _needs _help. Sasuke needs to rely on someone, because he's falling apart. He needs a team-mate, even if he doesn't want one.

* * *

Kakashi shook his head at how quickly his team could forget about him. Still, Sakura's actions showed something quite impressive: she'd perceived the effects of her behaviour on her team-mate, and she'd followed him (Kakashi was sure about this) in hope of breaking through his stoic facade. Not as a fan-girl, but as a friend. 

As her teacher, he'd always been fully confident in her academic ability, but she was generally slow to apply that clever mind to comprehending what people were feeling. She didn't think before she spoke, she didn't realise that by admiring Sasuke's looks she was pushing both him and Naruto away. She was oblivious to how her words affected people and she didn't question her own preconceptions – Naruto as an idiot, Sasuke as infallible. But now it looked like she was learning!

Still, Kakashi had to wonder about Sasuke. If the Uchiha regained his composure and stopped to think, there was a possibility he would guess one of Kakashi's motives in not stopping the fight when the seal activated. Hopefully he'd take Kakashi's argument at face value – it wasn't as if the reasoning was untrue. Interfering in the fight would have been dangerous – the Kyuubi's chakra was not easily broken through, and Kakashi was sure if he'd pulled Sasuke out of that bind, he'd get burnt pretty badly.

But that wasn't the whole story: the first reason the copy ninja had had for continuing his count-down was more significant: if Shikamaru and Sasuke were allowed to start up a rivalry, they'd find out about the other's secrets – Sasuke would be sure to question Shikamaru's new-found motivation. It was already too dangerous for them to train together. Why? Because if Sasuke learnt about the Akatsuki, he'd learn about Uchiha Itachi.

That would be a disaster.

* * *

Sasuke really didn't want to talk to Sakura. How could she help in his inner conflict, how could she understand him? Naruto at least had an ambition, Sakura didn't seem to have any aims. He didn't want to talk to her about the purpose that drove his life and how it tempted him. He didn't want to mention his own jealousy – Naruto had been taken with the sannin Jiraiya to find the next Hokage, while he had had to stay in Konoha. 

He didn't want to talk to her, in short.

But she was looking at him, eyes sympathetic. She was so concerned for him, so cautious. It stirred up emotions in him in return, but he couldn't tell what they were.

"Sakura," he said, wanting nothing more than her to stop looking at his face, "I'm fine. I'll fight them with you. We ought to make a plan; shall I take the scroll and you have a decoy?"

"Sasuke."

He met her eyes.

"For you to resort to using the curse seal, you had to have been drained of chakra. You shouldn't be fighting another match."

She was serious, he realised. Her voice was soft but there was real determination in it. Still, despite the respect he felt for her new-found attitude, he wouldn't sit out a match.

"I'm not entirely drained, and I'm not physically hurt." He stood up. "Don't you want to beat Ino?"

"Not as much as I want you to stay safe and sane, Sasuke. You didn't have any reason to use - _that _– against Shikamaru. He's not your enemy and it wasn't a real fight!"

She was right. He'd let himself get carried away; let himself fixate on a goal that had no benefits. It was training, he should have admitted defeat gracefully or relied on his own skills.

It had just been...

Anger. Anger and a sense of his own weakness. Nara Shikamaru had arrived when he'd been fighting Gaara and ordered him to be taken to safety – he'd been rescued and dismissed, he'd been seen as a liability by someone who'd got knocked out of the exam early on, by someone who never, _ever_, appeared to put effort into _anything_. Sasuke had rarely felt so inadequate as when he'd met Naruto in the hospital the day after that attack.

* * *

_Naruto sat on the bed opposite Sasuke's, bouncing on the mattress._

"_Gaara's on our side now!" _

"_On our side? Why, idiot?"_

"_He wasn't really evil," Naruto told him, mouth widening in a massive grin, "Just misunderstood!"_

"_Moron," Sasuke said, shaking his head._

_How had Naruto come to that conclusion? Gaara, misunderstood? The – creature – he'd transformed into was insane, bloodthirsty and dangerous. _

_But that would be just like Naruto, wouldn't it? To perceive the desperation behind someone or something that everyone else saw as a monster. Maybe he hadn't even fought Gaara, just talked him down._

_Naruto started speaking again: "You know, Shikamaru's a really surprising guy. I thought I knew him, but..." the blond genin shrugged, pausing for a minute "He saved the day, more than I did. Came up with an awesome plan, too!"_

_Sasuke felt a sudden surge of resentment. He'd fought Gaara with all he had, now Naruto was telling him Gaara had been outwitted by a genin who didn't even get to the finals of the chuunin exam. Why couldn't Sasuke have fought beside Naruto to defeat Gaara? _

"_I don't care about Shikamaru, idiot." His voice was acidic._

_Naruto looked at him, blue eyes vivid as ever. Sasuke gritted his teeth._

_Then Naruto looked away._

"_I didn't come here to tell you about him, anyway. I've got a mission!"_

_Naruto looked overjoyed at this._

"_What are we doing, then?" Sasuke forced himself to ask._

"_Well, uh..." Naruto scratched his head, awkward suddenly. "I've got a mission. You and Sakura kinda haven't. You know Jiraiya? My perverted teacher? He's got to go and bring someone back to Konoha..."_

_Naruto kept talking. Sasuke couldn't listen. _

_Naruto hadn't come back to the hospital. Sasuke hadn't said good-bye before his team-mate left._

* * *

Sakura looked at him with concern, and he realised he hadn't said anything to her. She'd been watching him, her eyes fixed on his. She'd been reading the strain and resentment in his face as he remembered... But she wasn't condemning him for it. 

Kages curse it, maybe he should tell her what he thought. If he didn't, he'd end up having to tell Kakashi, and that would be even more humiliating.

"Sakura, I'll talk to you about it after the training, okay? But for now, please trust me. I can fight."

Sakura nodded, and they headed back to the clearing with the teacher, making a plan.

* * *

Ino and Chouji had come up with a plan of attack, helped by Shikamaru. The demon-host wasn't really focused on said plan of attack, to be honest. Asuma hadn't attended the training session, and that meant he was spying. Shikamaru wanted to know what had been found out over the last week, because his sensei had been suspiciously reticent. 

Shikamaru felt an emotion that was almost new to him: impatience.

But he watched, anyway, and the two pairs faced off in the center of the field.

"Begin!" Kakashi ordered.

And Chouji expanded under the _baika no jutsu,_ rolling around the clearing. Ino hung back, her fingers locked in the primary seal position (forefingers together).

Shikamaru's influence had affected the plan – the Ino there was a bunshin, her body was some distance away in the forest, unconscious, and her mind concealed and passive within Chouji.

Sasuke tracked Chouji's movements, his eyes sharingan-red and revolving slowly. He flung a few kunai as he circled round Sakura protectively, but then started a sequence of hang-seals.

_As we predicted, he'll use a katon skill._

Sasuke made the final seal, and Ino grabbed control of Chouji's body, stopping the rolling motion and reducing him to his normal size. Unfortunately, neither of the two minds could pick Chouji's body up from the ground before Sasuke aimed a powerful kick at him.

Chouji/Ino stood up, wobbling.

(_It's Chouji,_ Shikamaru thought, recognising his old friend's typical attempt to stabilise himself)

And then Ino reasserted control, grinning wickedly for just a second before she punched.

Sasuke dodged backwards, his hair flying across his face. He brought up one arm in a solid block, and he smirked: "I don't need the sharingan for this."

But Ino pulled back the hand she'd used to punch and formed a seal, shoving her (Chouji's) hands out in front of her.

Ino's spirit left the borrowed body.

"Thirty seconds down."

Sasuke's eyes opened; he ducked and pulled away, eyes turning sharingan-red in an attempt to find out what effect the jutsu Chouji had performed had been. He looked around him, anticipating an attack.

But Ino's spirit wasn't visible to the sharingan. He concluded it must have been some kind of power-up for the Akimichi, and launched a taijutsu offensive.

As he slammed forward to take out Chouji, he moved straight through Ino's shintenshin form.

He felt backwards, teeth gritted.

And Chouji charged towards Sakura.

* * *

Sakura must have set up genjutsu: Shikamaru had seen her make seals while Chouji and Ino had faced Sasuke. Chouji stopped, paralysed somehow. 

Ino, meanwhile, was having trouble. Sasuke's mind was strong, defended by Uchiha training and the mental barriers he'd erected against nightmares and genjutsu influence.

"A minute down, a minute left."

The most she could do was incapacitate him. If she moved to control him, she'd be faced with a blank, black figure, the only colour on it the Uchiha fan. There was a wall around Sasuke's mind, a wall guarded by unyielding tradition. She could only hold Sasuke still.

Chouji was on his own.

* * *

Chouji saw a restaurant with no food, an Akimichi like a skeleton standing in the kitchen. 

"You can't come here, son."

The Akimichi was his father, whose face was guant, whose eyes were the only bright part of him. Even his eyes looked bad, though, their sheen couldn't conceal the rot that had discoloured them. The irises looked discoloured, and the corruption was spreading out into the rest of the white like the bruise on a grape.

"You shouldn't have stood by the Kyuubi. It's evil, you know."

Chouji noticed that his father was looking past him. He turned.

Outside the door, the world was on fire. A man in a red-on-black coat walked up to him, and he was the Hokage (only not the Sandaime). The man pointed, and Chouji's cousins were on the floor. Their heads had been crushed, blood stained the ground around them.

The not-Hokage nodded. "You should have betrayed him to us. Then your friend would be alive."

And Ino was in his arms, and blood was staining her face. She didn't weigh anything; he'd always said she should eat more.

But were they saying Shikamaru had killed her?

That couldn't be right!

* * *

Shikamaru shouted - "Snap out of it, Chouji!" 

And Chouji started to move, he took a step back, held his arms out to his sides.

* * *

Chouji nodded – it was only an illusion. He'd heard Shikamaru's voice, Shikamaru was still the same, he wouldn't ever kill Ino. He moved his arms, but he still saw them cradling the body of Ino. And there was no sense of weight or smell, either. His kitchen smelt of whatever food had been cooked there last, of spice, of seasoning and meat. Even if there was a disaster going on, there'd be some residue of that gorgeous smell. Besides, he couldn't smell blood despite all the bodies. 

Now he knew it wasn't real, he couldn't break the genjutsu.

"Kai!"

* * *

Shikamaru grinned; Chouji did it! But Kakashi spoke then – there were only thirty seconds left. 

His friend looked at Sakura, started charging. She pulled out a handful of shuriken, and they started a face-off.

But what about Ino? Sasuke was standing, hands in a seal. The sharingan was activated; not a good sign for the blonde.

Sasuke's face twitched. His lips drew back; one or the other was trying to speak.

But, back to Sakura – she had held Chouji at a distance, but as the fox-host watched, he dodged a kunai and rolled, then feinted to one side. He'd been working on taijutsu with Kiba, and some of the dog-boy's fluency of movement had rubbed off on the Akimichi.

Chouji didn't try and get to his feet, he performed a floor-sweep and pulled Sakura's out from under her, then moved to try and pin her. If Sasuke had had the scroll, Ino would surely have got it.

Then a movement caught his attention - Sasuke's hands pulled apart from each other, slowly, as if fighting against magnetism.

* * *

_I'm not letting anyone or anything affect my mind. I'm not going to let the Seal; and I'm certainly not going to let any cheap possession jutsu do it either._

Sasuke slammed his hands back together, and shouted: "KAI!"

And he felt the influence vanish from his mind, replaced by sharingan-clarity that seemed more powerful than ever before.

He would win this.

* * *

Chouji held the scroll; it had been under a henge jutsu, but he'd just checked every kunai in Sakura's pouch for concealment jutsus. There were fifteen seconds left, all he had to do was hold on to it for that long. He jumped back away from Sakura, shoving the scroll into the inner pocket in his jacket (there was a packet of crisps in there, too). 

But then Sasuke's voice shouted 'kai!', and he knew he was in trouble.

* * *

Shikamaru felt himself being drawn into the battle playing out in front of him; he wanted to intervene. He couldn't, but he leant forward and his eyes were fixed. 

Sasuke's first action was to launch a kunai at the bunshin. It dodged, straight into the track of the shuriken, which made it explode into smoke.

Sasuke turned to Sakura and Chouji; met Sakura's eyes, she conveyed that she'd lost the scroll. He shifted his attention to the Akimichi.

"Katon: housenka no jutsu!"

Chouji ducked behind a tree, but Sakura made a seal. Genjutsu time.

There are three types of genjutsu, unimaginatively named types A, B and C. Type A impedes the senses with chakra, making enemies unable to see what is really there. Types B and C make the enemy see things that are not there, but in different ways. Type B shows them an illusion constructed by the caster, and B type genjutsu can seem solid to the person they are affecting. Their strength, however, is completely reliant on the caster's concentration and the amount of chakra fed into them.

The jutsu Sakura used on Chouji that showed him a desolated kitchen and people scared of the Kyuubi was a Type C genjutsu. This category of genjutsu feeds off the fears of the target, relying on their own mind to provide their fears. Although this can be more powerful psychologically, especially when the caster doesn't know what will affect the target, the scenes created by this kind of illusion are like nightmares – often abstract, and if the victim manages to look at them logically, they will be able to see impossible things happening and tell that the situation is neither real nor realistic. Sakura's Type C genjutsu had seemed even less realistic because it had been low-level, and therefore only affected Chouji's faculties of sight and hearing. It could only deceive someone who was too stunned by the horror of what he was seeing.

But Sakura knew that her other genjutsu was harder to break through: she performed the seals.

"Kokuangyō no Jutsu!"

* * *

"Ten seconds left," Kakashi said, not even pretending to read his book. 

Sasuke grabbed Chouji with one hand, ignoring the other boy's flailing. His sharingan eyes narrowed.

Ino dashed headlong towards them from the bushes where her body had been hidden, but Sakura stood in her way.

Shikamaru's eyes flitted between the two struggling pairs. Sasuke had Chouji's arms pinned with one hand, teeth bared with the effort of holding someone so much larger, while the other hand had ripped the Akimichi's jacket off. Chouji kneed his attacker, blindly flailing, but with dangerous weight behind him.

Sasuke jumped away, scroll reclaimed.

Sakura dodged a kick from Ino, catching the blonde in the side with a punch but getting caught in turn by the Yamanaka's hands and tipping over as they both fell to the ground, so Ino landed on top of her and managed leap. The pink-haired girl pulled herself back up, but her distraction had broken the illusion.

Both members of Team Ten raced for Sasuke.

"Three seconds left!"

Sasuke jumped backwards, sending his remaining shuriken at them as he retreated.

"Two"

Sakura picked herself up again, lauched a kunai at Chouji, who was nearer to Sasuke.

He ducked, and Sasuke knocked him down from behind. Ino moved forward, but:

"One... and it's over!"

The jounin walked forward. "Team Ten win one round, Team Seven the other. I guess that makes it a tie, then."

Sakura had been gloating, but she stopped at this.

"Anyway, I think that's enough training for the day. I want you all to consider how this second match showed the advantages of team-work."

Then he raised a hand in farewell and vanished.

The genin looked at one another.

"Well," Ino said, massaging her doubtless-bruised ribs, "I guess that's it for today."

Sakura smiled slightly. "Yeah. Kakashi's like that. He vanishes without warning..."

"Sakura." Sasuke said.

"We're going to have that talk now," she told him. "Sorry, Ino-pig, but I've got a date!"

Ino was left to scowl as Sakura pulled down one eyelid in an ugly gesture of triumph, departing with their mutual lust-object.

Shikamaru yawned.

Ino glared.

"Let's go," Chouji said.

* * *

**A**uthor's **N**otes.

* * *

Team Seven get quite a lot of screen time here - they're going to play a role in the Plot, later on. 

As to Sasuke using the curse seal against Shikamaru, remember that this is AU - things happened differently. In the original, he'd wanted to fight Naruto from the start of the exam, he saw the Gaara fight and Naruto's leet fighting skillz. It was the fact that Naruto had seemed to prove himself stronger than him (defeating Neji and Gaara) that made him challenge Naruto when they fought on the hospital roof. In Interest, though, he didn't see Shikamaru and Naruto fight Gaara, and he did see Shikamaru lose to Naruto. But then Naruto's saying Shikamaru's the one who should get credit for fighting Gaara, and Sasuke's confused because not only does he think Shikamaru was a lazy good-for-nothing bastard, he's also got to figure out why Shikamaru suddenly looks different. And no-one's explained the concept of demon hosts to the poor Uchiha.

So that all adds up to a confused Sasuke, who is now pissed off by the fact that Naruto's ran off without him after seriously challenging his understanding of their rivalry. He feels kinda betrayed by Naruto, and because Naruto talked about Shikamaru, Sasuke's transferring that animosity to Shika. Shikamaru brushed Sasuke off earlier when he got challenged by him, so Sasuke was frustrated enough with Shikamaru to subconsciously activate the curse seal. Make sense?

And what I want to know is this: what do you think will happen to Sasuke? Will he go to Orochimaru's side? Find out about Itachi? Fall in love with Sakura?

But if you're not so much of a Sasuke fan, you might be relieved: next chapter, we find out what Ino's been thinking, delve deeper into Konoha politics, and Shikamaru finds out he might have to leave home.

Jutsu List:

Kokuangyō no Jutsu – Bringer of Darkness Technique. Makes the target/s think they are surrounded by complete darkness. (This is a real jutsu)

Magen: Kokunai Ojike no Chikaku – Demonic Illusion: Visualisation of the Inner Fear. Can only target one person. It draws on the victim's fears to create an illusion of sight and sound, but is easily dispelled. The caster does not know and can not affect the content of the illusions. (This isn't a real jutsu, and the japanese is probably not grammatically correct).

Also on the subject of jutsu, **Razvanor** pointed out Shikamaru shouldn't be able to use Yondaime's Flying Thunder God Technique. To anyone wondering about that, in chapter 42 of Indifference, it's explained that he can't. Naruto and Shikamaru made up a cut-price version of it, which works in a similar way, but it has disadvantages and has to have been prepared before-hand.

* * *

Reviews make me a happy writer, and I'm depressed because I go back to school in five days! So please review to thank me for a nice long chapter!  



	18. Acquaintances

Time to catch up on what Naruto's been doing, since he comes back into the story now. I didn't realise until I started this that I'd really missed writing him...

Naruto's sections take place over the whole of his mission with Jiraiya - basically they're a summary of what he's been doing since the end of Indifference.

* * *

_Naruto; two weeks ago._

* * *

"Ero-sennin?" Naruto asked, his voice low.

Jiraiya turned to look at his student, whose face was furrowed with thought. The forest they were walking through was thick, and Naruto's eyes were dark and serious-looking in the shadows, fixed ahead in the distance.

"My dad... " Naruto continued, "why did he do what he did?"

"What he did?" Jiraiya responded drily, not looking forward to this conversation, "He made a lot of hard decisions over his life-time, Naruto."

"Don't give me that, old fraud!" the blond replied, angry. He stopped walking, looking directly at his teacher with an intense gaze. "_Everyone_ has to make choices that are hard, don't they? Shikamaru and I had one chance to defeat, Gaara, we wouldn't have _survived_ if it'd gone wrong, but went through with it, and... Gaara's sister had to choose whether she'd go against her own village and stick with us. The bastard – Sasuke – he's trying to cope with what that freak Orochimaru did; the Hokage-old-man has always had to think through his politics and stuff, and now he's_ dead_..." He stopped, kicking the leaf-covered ground in frustration. "Damn it, just saying things are a 'hard decision' doesn't change what happened. I don't need you to tell me a non-answer like that, I need to know why he did it!"

Jiraiya shrugged his broad shoulders, then sat back against a log, placing his scroll beside him and resting his elbows on his crossed legs. He looked at Naruto steadily until the boy sat down facing opposite him.

"So why did my dad seal the fox in Shikamaru?"

Jiraiya sighed. "I wasn't in Konoha then, kid."

Naruto looked down.

There was a silence, and although Jiraiya produced his pipe from a pocket and lit it, half-smiling in enjoyment of whatever it was he was smoking, the older ninja stayed attentive to his blond charge.

"Pervert... my dad, he didn't ever marry my mother, did he? That old Hyuuga told me I didn't 'deserve his name', and Iruka-sensei said it was 'technically' true. Which means it _is_ true, doesn't it."

"He didn't marry her, no. But that doesn't mean anything, Naruto."

"Yes it does!" Naruto shouted. "Everyone always talks about him acting for the good of Konoha, how selfless he was. He sacrificed himself because it was the only way, that's what everyone thinks. But – all that means that if he was alive now, they'd all be ashamed of him! Of him and of me and of whoever my mother was."

Jiraiya's hand was clenched around his pipe, the only sign that he was suffering from this conversation. He sat still as Naruto's anger subsided to a murmur, listening to his student's worried voice.

"I want to believe he would have been a good father if he'd lived, I really do want to... I'm always told I should be proud to have him as my father even though he never was my father... But if he lived, would he have even stayed with me?"

"Naruto." Jiraiya's voice was firm.

"Ero-sennin!" Naruto growled the name in reply, voice slightly choked. His eyes were bright and narrowed. "Did my father seal the fox into Shikamaru because it was the best thing to do, or did he do it because he thought it'd work out better if he died?!"

Jiraiya blew out a long stream of smoke, eyes half-shut. Naruto looked so much like his father... The hermit leaned forward, resting an arm over his knee, eyes intent on the boy in front of him.

"_Yondaime Hokage_... they don't give that title away for nothing, boy. He wouldn't have done something selfish when the village was at stake, I assure you of that."

Jiraiya stood up, leant one arm on a thick tree-trunk as he looked at the deep reds and pinks of the clouds that were illuminated through the trees. As the hermit started speaking, Naruto's eyes felt like they were glued to Jiraiya's back. His _sensei's_ posture seemed casual, but the serious tone of his voice belied that.

"I never knew your mother, and I never knew about the two of them together. But I can tell you your old man wouldn't have willingly left anyone alone when he had a responsibility to them."

"He had a responsibility to _me_." Naruto retorted violently, before adding more quietly: "And to Shikamaru, too."

"He had a responsibility to the whole of Konoha. If you're Hokage... you can not afford to take care of your wife or son before anyone else. You can't afford to have favourites."

Naruto nodded, slowly. It was true.

"That's why I refused to take the job," the sannin murmured after a moment of silence.

* * *

_Shikamaru; present time._

* * *

Watching his team-mates fight, Shikamaru had been distracted from his own worries. As soon as the practice ended, though, they came back in full force. Ino and Chouji had suggested that the three of them spend some time together, but Shikamaru knew that he had a duty to stay with his mother and sister. It was because of him that Akatsuki had gone after Rumiko, after all.

Still, the fox-host felt reluctant as he walked back around the outside of the village. On the way to practice, he'd jumped through the trees at a leisurely pace that came naturally, enjoying the scenery and the calm of the forest in the morning. The movement was effortless, calming. However, he'd only been gone from his house for an hour, and that time seemed to reduce to almost nothing as soon as his mind returned to the problems of home.

Once he got there, he would feel obliged to stay inside - Rumiko wouldn't leave the house of her own volition. To keep her company, he'd have to give up his day of cloud-watching. Once upon a time, he'd have considered ignoring her needs and his duties, and lying back on the grass. But he couldn't afford to be selfish like that any more.

Still, he walked home at a civilian's pace, enjoying the scenery of the forest.

At least he could use to time to think over the Village Situation, as he was mentally calling it.

The council couldn't legally act against him, but someone had done so anyway, keeping him locked up and drugged. Kakashi and Asuma had been searching for information on who that had been and why, and all signs pointed to the white-haired ex-jounin named Adiurat, a prominent council member. They'd also been looking to identify anyone who could have given the Akatsuki information on who Shikamaru's family were.

They hadn't told him what they'd found yet.

* * *

_Naruto; three days ago._

* * *

"Neh, pervert-hermit?" Naruto called, slanting his eyes back at the white-haired man walking behind him.

Jiraiya was staring off into the middle distance, biting his lower lip. Someone more observant than Naruto might have noticed his eyes refocusing on his student for a split second as he heard the epithet, but Naruto missed this hint that his teacher was aware of him.

The blond walked backwards, slowing his pace enough that Jiraiya caught up with him.

"Perverted hermit? Teacher? Neh, super-perv! Listen to me!"

"Hmm?" Jiraiya asked, so casually that Naruto's eye developed a tic. How did the super-perv do that? He completely ignored you and then when he finally heard you, he acted as if it was totally normal to just go 'oh, pardon?' to the guy who's been shouting for the last five minutes! (Well, half a minute, but it was still infuriating.) Naruto was starting to think this guy was related to Shikamaru somehow, as if some demented individual had replaced their cloud-watching obsession with a mindless lechery.

Hang on, there was something in that! Both of the activities involved gazing mindlessly at things. Sure, Jiraiya had to put more work into his perversion – women didn't undress all over the sky, after all – but it was essentially the same. Women hated Shikamaru, women hated Jiraiya.

"Keh, brat," Jiraiya said, and Naruto's mental image (Shikamaru with Jiraiya's hair staring vacantly at the sky, drooling and blushing) disappeared.

The pervert in front of him was muttering a complaint: "Waste your honourable teacher's time, will you? Ungrateful little..."

"Honourable?!" Naruto squawked...

And another round of insults started up between the two.

Such had been the life of Naruto. He and Jiraiya journeyed from town to town; Jiraiya trawling the bars and backstreets that he knew well, following clues from place to place in hopes they'd lead to his old colleague.

Naruto had insisted on training – Jiraiya had suggested Naruto perfect the shunshin skill they'd worked on together for the chuunin exam, but Naruto had refused. He wanted to learn his father's _hiraishin no jutsu_, but the thought of spending more time racing around and being hit with exploding tags and weaponry did not appeal to him. And he wanted a truly cool jutsu! Something like the chidori, something to blow stuff up! Something dramatic, showy, dangerous! Something worthy of the next great ninja of Konoha!

Jiraiya had given him the summoning contract for frogs, but Naruto had learnt to summon frogs the size of dogs comfortably, but he'd knock himself out with chakra exhaustion as soon as he tried to summon anything bigger. In the mean-time Jiraiya had introduced him to a jutsu that would give him a better way of up building his chakra stores (which were far above-average for a genin, but not enough to summon frogs that were big enough to ride).

This jutsu's name: Kage Bunshin.

It had taken Naruto only twenty minutes to learn to create a solid clone, although when he'd enthusiastically tried for six of them at once, he'd knocked himself out. Cue all six Narutoes dashing for the white-haired lecher, triggering an alarm in the women's baths where the hermit was spying. Only two of the Naruto had survived the crowd of angry women, and Jiraiya had knocked both of them out in a rage before realising what the presence of two solid bunshin but no real ninja meant and stalking back to the training-field.

Four days later, Naruto could keep ten clones in existence for as long as necessary, and he'd used them to their fullest advantage to pester his teacher.

Still, the glee he felt at being able to create solid replications of himself didn't quite manage to stop him worrying about his friends. Shikamaru most of all, because his lazy friend had kept the fox's existence secret for a long time, and now he couldn't do that any more – he'd looked _different_ after the fight with Gaara. The Yondaime's son felt responsible for what had happened to Shikamaru, and he really wished he could send a message to at least ask him if he was okay...

But when he distracted himself from Shikamaru, it was to worry about Sasuke. Sasuke and that curse seal and the scary man called Orochimaru. Sasuke who hadn't said good-bye or good luck before he'd left.

He kinda hoped this mission would be over quickly, even though it was cool to be trained by a sannin.

* * *

_Shikamaru; present time._

* * *

Asuma was waiting for him between the woods and his house, and Shikamaru noticed he'd positioned himself to be out of sight of the view from the window. He gestured to Shikamaru, and the genin came over.

"I owe you an explanation of what we've found so far."

Shikamaru nodded, grateful that he hadn't had to ask.

"Well, there isn't a great deal of conclusive evidence. The majority of the people involved are politicians, which means they can hide their tracks all too well. But we know there are two separate groups that've sprung up – one that Adiurat seems to be the major presence in, which includes-" he took a deep drag of his cigarette: "The Hyuuga Main House, or at least the guys in charge of it, the head of police, and at least some of the interim administration at the Hokage's Tower. They're the ones who had you kidnapped after the Chuunin exams, and who gave your father a fake mission.

"The other group isn't so politically powerful, thank the fates, but they're trying to assassinate you. You were spot on when you mentioned the man with scars to match yours; we've found him. His name is Makuro Kenta (the Makuro family are ninja family, but not well established enough to be called a clan) and he was a jounin when the Kyuubi attacked. He had a twin brother, who was on his genin team. They were close. The brother was crushed by the wreckage of a building during in the fight with the Kyuubi and his spine was wrecked; he's paralysed. He still lives in Konoha. Our guy Kenta was pretty much unhurt - he got those scars later, and I suspect they're self-inflicted. From what we know, he went to Sandaime more than once while his brother was in hospital, insisting that you should be killed. The Sandaime refused (with good reason), of course, and from what we can find out, Makuro resorted to making an assassination attempt and was stopped by the ANBU. Sandaime made him hand in his hitae-ate and threatened to exile him."

Shikamaru nodded slowly. It was disconcerting to hear his teacher flat-out tell him about someone who wanted to kill him – Gaara had wanted to fight him, Akatsuki wanted the Kyuubi, but neither of those statements had the crude force of 'he wants you dead'.

"So did Makuro ever get kicked out?", the fox-ninja asked uneasily.

"He left of his own accord, as far as we can tell," Asuma replied, voice laconic. "Less than a week after the incident with the ANBU, although he had a meeting with the Sandaime directly before his departure. We found that out a while back; but what we didn't learn until today was that he went to speak to his brother after he'd seen the Hokage."

"His twin? The one who...?"_ The Kyuubi crippled_, finished Shikamaru mentally. He felt awkward hearing about incidents like that. He wanted to be sympathetic, but it never really seemed appropriate:_ 'I'm sorry that the fox that's sealed into my stomach ruined your life'._ It'd come over as facetious if he tried; he wasn't good at sympathy even when he wasn't seen as at fault.

"Yeah. The man's still alive now; I went to see him, after all other sources of information failed. He's in a care home."

"Did he speak to you?"

Asuma sighed, stubbing out the cigarette. "He seemed reluctant to do so. He and his brother are apparently not on particularly friendly terms, but he didn't want to sell him out, as far as I can see. But he told me one thing – he'd like to talk to you."

_Oh, great._

Shikamaru really didn't want to go and have that conversation.

* * *

_Naruto; 24 hours ago._

* * *

Kanamura was a town like most of the others that they'd spent time in - bustling with people, from traders to tourists to locals loitering on obviously familiar streets. There were, however, very few ninja around, and Jiraiya and Naruto attracted some attention, being both shinobi and obviously foreign.

Naruto wondered if it was that that put his teacher on edge – the sannin didn't say anything to his student or make it obvious from his body language, but it was obvious that he was trying very carefully not to let anything slip, and eventually Naruto had to ask.

He jumped up to his teacher, pulling one of the white locks of hair that fell either side of his face, then leaning in close and asked quickly and what he thought was discreetly: _"We being followed?"_

Jiraiya detached his student from his (prized) hair by force, and replied in a murmur: "I saw someone in Akatsuki robes."

"Eh? Who're the Akatsuki?" Naruto asked, far too loudly.

And Jiraiya saw: someone reacted to the name. It was one of the beggar-like people on the edge of street, a girl with lank brown hair pulled over her face, and dark-coloured clothes that were too expensive and not old enough to belong to a homeless person.

The hermit pinned her against the wall, fast enough that she hadn't had time to recover her composure - her eyes were still wide and scared-looking. Up close she looked teenage, not a ninja, and definitely not local or homeless – her face was too round to belong to anyone but a comfortably living civilian. She panicked, struggling ineffectually.

"What doyou know about the Akatsuki, girl?!" He barked.

She took a deep breath, then another, and Jiraiya saw that her hands (that had been raised to try and pull his own off her shoulders) were shaking slightly. She gripped his arms, although whether it was to stop the shaking or to try and pry him off he didn't know.

And then she spoke, raising her eyes to his face and looking at his forehead protected before swallowing and speaking.

"I know they're trying to kill me."

* * *

The brother of Makuro Kenji lived in Konoha's Nursing Home, a building tucked away behind a row of shops as if it was embarrassed about its role in life. Shikamaru had never been anywhere like this before, and he was glad of it. Bunches of fake flowers and anodyne paintings tried to brighten the drab decor; a receptionist sat, depressed, behind a bland desk. She didn't look up as Asuma led Shikamaru past and up a stair-case.

"Are you sure this guy doesn't want to kill me?" Shikamaru asked, voice deliberately indifferent.

"I'm fairly confident, and I'm sure he wouldn't be able to if he tried. Anything he says will be helpful, I'm sure you know can understand how."

It was true, the fox-host knew. Any response that this second Makuro twin gave them would help them determine what his brother's motives were, whether the two were both a part of this plan or not.

Asuma knocked, and a man's voice called them in

The room they entered had a large table in the centre of it, but the only other distinguishing feature was a huge bookshelf. A window opened onto the other side of the street, a vase with dried lavender in it on the window-sill. A greying man looked up at them, sitting in a wheel-chair at the table. He raised a hand in welcome.

"I am Makuro Makoto. Pleased to meet you."

"Shikamaru." Shikamaru said, since the guy obviously knew his name already._ Makoto, huh. Means truth._

Asuma, who hadn't moved past the doorway, ducked out behind his student with the excuse that he wasn't allowed to smoke in the building.

And Shikamaru was left alone with the guy whose life had basically been wrecked by the creature most of Konoha believed him to be. He felt unreasonably nervous, considering that the guy was crippled.

The Nara moved into the room, taking a seat in the chair that was sitting facing Makoto at the table.

"Nara Shikamaru. So you're the one." The ex-ninja picked up a pencil from the table, and Shikamaru realised the book in front of the man's chair was a sketch-book. But then he remembered he needed to try and be polite, so he forced his eyes back to the man's face, trying to look friendly.

"You're the one my brother has spent the last twelve years trying to kill." The words were blunt but neutral, neither sympathetic nor accusatory.

Shikamaru had now seen both Makuro twins – he wouldn't have known that was what they were, even side by side. Brothers, certainly – they looked alike in facial structure, the eyes of both were sharp and clear. But Makoto's face and body were slack, his neck was thick, while Kenta was lean, obviously a ninja. Kenta's brow had lines carved into it from frowning, but his face was unlined for the most part. Makoto's hair was mostly grey and his mouth and forehead were creased; he looked ten years older at least.

Shikamaru met the other man's eyes. They were calm and interested.

"I owe you an apology, Shikamaru." That was said in the same straight-forward tone as the earlier statement, but Makoto inclined his head slightly, almost respectfully. Then the eyes came back up, examining Shikamaru. There was a faint scratching, and Shikamaru realised the man was drawing him.

"In fact, most of this village does, I imagine," - Makoto glanced down at his drawing, eyes flickering rapidly to and from the paper - "but I feel responsible for my brother's actions, and the fact I can do nothing to stop him. You see, Kenta was the younger of the two of us, and he always saw me as a rival. We were in the same class in the academy, we were placed on the same genin team. He was a naturally brilliant child, and although I was also gifted, he was always the better shinobi."

Makoto paused for a moment, eyes staying on the paper. He drew over a line, then corrected it, then darkened it and shaded around. Shikamaru could see the beginning of a face, presumably his own. It was an uncomfortable feeling, knowing you were being drawn.

"Kenta felt responsible for me," the invalid continued, "Especially once we passed the chuunin exam together and began to be assigned truly dangerous missions, even more so as it became clear I'd never be strong enough to qualify for jounin status. I just didn't have the motivation, even if it could be humiliating to know I was weaker than my twin and less useful than my girlfriend. We rarely got along peacefully between the two of us, of course, but he was ... protective of me once he was old enough to appreciate that he really was the stronger of us.

"He was always the stubborn one, and I'd have to give in and let him do what he wanted. I swear, I spent half my childhood calming people down and cleaning up after him..." he laughed, and Shikamaru felt completely at a loss. This was a guy who wanted to kill him, 'stubborn' didn't seem quite the right word.

But then Makoto shook his head, as if he'd just remembered that his kids didn't like it when he started reminiscing. He returned his attention to his drawing, and for almost a minute they sat in silence except from the scratch of the pencil. Shikamaru started watching the ninja passing by on the roof opposite them, feeling awkward. He tried to think of a polite question to ask, but nothing came to mind. It seemed most sensible to just let the old man finish his drawing.

Another minute passed, Shikamaru shifting in the chair. It wasn't cushioned, and he had to resist the urge to squirm.

"There was one thing I didn't back down to him on, actually." He spoke suddenly, as if he'd just remembered. "One thing other than the matter of you, that is, because that... Well, it was the straw that broke the camel's back, that it was."

"Um, the thing about me, or the other thing?" Shikamaru asked when it was clear Makoto wouldn't continue. He felt younger than his age.

"You, of course, boy."

He scrutinised Shikamaru, looked down, adjusted the line of the chin. Then he started shading something in, head lowered to the paper. It didn't seem to require as much concentration as the previous work, because he spoke while doing it.

"The other matter, as you called it, was our third team-mate. Uchiha Kazumi, she was called. Ironic that her name - Kazu - means _harmony_, beauty and harmony, when she bought so many arguments between my brother and I..." he sighed heavily. "It wasn't her fault, of course. I had admired her for the longest time, even when we were in the academy and the 'dating' that went on was just childish games. We were the best of friends, and she was beautiful. The most beautiful thing I've ever seen, and that holds true to this day."

"She and I, we started going out together when we'd been genin for a year. We first kissed during the chuunin exam, I remember it perfectly." Then he looked up, suddenly. "But you don't care, am I right? I'll summarise."

"To cut a long story short, she and I dated happily until around the time my brother and Kazumi became jounin. He did first, and she was ambitious; she wanted to follow him. I knew I never would, and I gave her my blessings to go on without me, but sometime during their training together, they... Well, he was always attracted to her. I don't know when she began to feel the same. They started a relationship, is the fact of it. And she, he and I... it was a mess. But it wasn't until the year before the Kyuubi attacked that we learnt to what extent that was true. She was pregnant. She had her child four months before the Kyuubi, and we didn't know whose it was. She couldn't choose between us, and she was living in her mother's house. Kenta insisted he wanted to marry her, he thought it was his... She told _me_ she'd marry me, but perhaps she said the same thing to him." He shrugged, expansively.

Shikmaru didn't know what to say. He wondered if the baby was alive and someone he knew, but it seemed unlikely, given the rest of the story. Still, Makoto seemed to just want to talk, so the fox-host sat and waited.

"In any case, we never resolved the issue. Her daughter died when the Kyuubi no Kitsune attacked, even though she was fighting on the front lines and survived through it. She had asked her mother to look after her little daughter, and their house was flattened with them in it because her mother hadn't dared run for safety, not with the girl there. Kazumi was devasted, I could see it, and even when she brought me flowers in hospital I knew it was over between us. She didn't come back to visit after Kenta left."

The silence between them had lost some of its tension. Shikamaru's mind was working better now he'd got used to the man's way of talking, and his thoughts distracted him from the feeling he was being cross-examined and evaluated by Makoto's artist's eyes.

"Did Kazumi die in the Uchiha Massacre?"

"That's right," he said, quietly. "I had no-one to give my condolences to, but I lit incense in her memory."

"I'm sorry," Shikamaru said, because it was clear in this situation that the 'sorry' was a commiseration, not an apology.

Makoto accepted the sentiment with a smile, then went back to his drawing. After a final check, looking at Shikamaru and down at the page, he pushed the paper over to Shikamaru.

It was quite a good likeness, but realising this man had only ever seen him in his Kyuubi-altered shape was odd. He still didn't quite picture himself as he really was. Shikamaru looked at his sketched self, who was looking out of the page with alert eyes but a slightly wary expression.

"Do you see yourself there, or do I need more practise?"

And Shikamaru wondered, because it hadn't occurred to him before, if Makoto drew because he couldn't move his legs, because he was pretty much helpless in this world of ninja and it was good for him to have control over at least marks on paper. The thought alarmed him. He knew it'd be rude to suggest that, though, so he fumbled for something else to say.

"It looks like me, yeah. It's just... odd seeing myself like this still."

He hadn't been going to talk about that out loud, but Makoto didn't seem perturbed.

"You've got to learn to be happy how you are, kid. That fox messed up the both of us, but I'm sure you've seen enough examples of how pointless it is to be bitter, being what you are."

Shikamaru nodded hesistantly.

"You can go now, kid. I hope you don't mind if I keep this picture; I'd draw something for you, if you want to visit me again, but I'm a selfish man from time to time, and I wanted to meet you and remember you."

"Um, okay."

"Take care of yourself, kid."

Shikamaru was half out of the door before he realised that this might well be the only man he'd ever meet who'd forgiven him for being the Kyuubi-host before even meeting him. He turned around.

"Thanks for talking to me, thanks a lot."

And Makuro Makoto nodded and shut the door behind him. He pulled the picture back to himself, looking at it closely.

"Maybe I should have told him the rest of it, after all."

* * *

_Naruto; 24 hours ago._

* * *

"Who are these Akatsuki guys?" Naruto demanded, as he tried to understand why Jiraiya had attacked a random girl. Molestation was normal for the ero-sennin, but this was new and freaky.

"Ask her." Jiraiya said, inclining his head towards 'her'. He'd taken his hands away from his captive, since it didn't look like she would get far if she ran.

"Sister-lady, who are the Akatsuki? Are you running away from them?" Naruto asked, his normal hyperactive familiarity returning to him easily.

"I- don't know," the stranger told him. "I know there are people – ninjas – after me, and the Akatsuki are the most dangerous ones."

"Neh, why? You're not a ninja, that's obvious."

"Gee, thanks." Naruto's friendliness had worked; the girl's face turned mock-offended, which was the first expression other than fear or wariness she'd shown. She continued: "Well, some of my family were shinobi, but I didn't grow up in a Hidden Village."

"So why would there be ninja after you?"

Jiraiya decided that he really needed to teach Naruto the meaning of the word tact, though the blond's lack of it was useful from time to time.

"I don't know!" She was half-panicking again, but she held on to a kind of flat-voiced composure: "I don't know anything except that I have to run away."

Naruto looked at her, bright-blue eyes sympathetic. Jiraiya's mind worked furiously.

She was won over by Naruto, and she folded her shaking hands in her lap told her story: "My mum... was a ninja from the Hidden Rock, but she died around the time when I was born. She sent me to live with her sister, and I lived there. But – two months ago, she said we had to leave. We were travelling together, running away, then she employed a ninja to go with us, because there were men after us. And shinobi were in our hotel room, so my aunt told the ninja man we employed to take me and go, and the last – the last thing she said to me was that no matter what I couldn't let the Akatsuki men get me. That was it."

Jiraiya shifted, getting ready to leap to his feet. There was someone on the roof-top, and he'd seen Akatsuki cloaks here. Now he knew why, evidently. A civilian _jinchuuriki_. That created a massive problem. Akatsuki members work in pairs and he had no chance of running off with a helpless civilian when two S-class Missing-Nin didn't want him to.

One solution offered itself, and he didn't like it. But it'd have to do.

"Naruto? I have an A-rank mission for you. Summon the biggest frog you can, and get it to carry you and her back to Konoha."

"Eh-!" Naruto started to protest.

"I'm deadly serious. When you get there, you must be seen by as few people as possible. Once you arrive, stay on the outside of the village. Keep her away from the councils. Can you do that? I could summon a frog, but I'll need all my chakra to fight the Akatsuki members."

Naruto hesitated for just a moment, then ran through the sequence of hand seals for Kuchiyose. He strained himself as much as he possibly could, digging out every last shred of chakra from his body. And he did it – the toad that appeared was bigger than Naruto himself, its back easily broad enough for the two passengers. Naruto had to lift the girl (who was staring at the summon with an incredulous expression that best translated to 'what the fuck') up onto the creature, telling her to hold on tight. An idea struck Jiraiya, and before they left, he looked up at the blond: "Take her to Nara's house, he'll understand the situation."

They left, and Jiraiya turned and waited. Only a second later, Hoshigaki Kisame appeared from the shadows.

* * *

_Shikamaru; present._

* * *

Shikamaru returned to his house hurriedly after recounting the conversation with Makuro Makoto to his teacher. The nursing home had been more-or-less in the village's centre, and he'd felt uncomfortable walking along the streets. He got side-long looks, conversations stopped as he passed. Whispers started. He forced himself to keep walking at the same pace, to look at people only casually and to look away again, keeping his eyes ahead.

He was relieved when he got out of their sights.

The fields looked so inviting as he arrived, and a few of the deer even came over to the edge of their fence to greet him. He felt tired suddenly, and he leaned on the wooden posts that penned the deer in, relaxing. Life was hard, at the moment. His mind was rarely at peace, rarely unhurried.

He still felt tense, aware of the muscles holding him upright in his legs and along the length of his back. His neck was cricked; he'd been looking up at the clouds.

_It'd be easier... just to lie back._

And Shikamaru let himself drop backwards onto the grass, slumping into the soft surface with a sigh of contenment.

_The clouds..._

His eyes knew how to do this: they slipped along layers of focus, they didn't watch, they just saw.

The day got hotter; the sun rose, and all the time, clouds drifted and shifted along the vast blue sky.

And Shikamaru hardly noticed. He'd built up so much tension, over the previous weeks. He was oblivious to the world now.

Until – sounds registered. They'd been quiet, at first, he noticed them subconsciously and hadn't moved a muscle in response but they got louder, a regular thumping on the ground, advancing. Towards him.

Then one final crash sounded, right near hi.. Voices, one saying Shikamaru, and the deer were backing away from something, making animal sounds of distress. Shikamaru lifted himself up on an elbow.

There was a large shape, bright coloured. His eyes took a second to refocus, seeing one part of it move. Yellow and orange, dropping down. Wait – Naruto.

The Nara pulled himself to his feet, crouching as he worked out what was going on. The big thing vanished in a puff of smoke, and all that was left was Naruto, being held up by someone he didn't recognise.

"Hey, Shikamaru," Naruto said, voice strained, "Jiraiya said to tell you Akatsuki's after this girl, she's gotta stay out of Konoha centre. Um, I think I used too much chakra."

He fell straight down, passed out, and the – person (the girl? Yes, now he looked he could see she was female, despite the lack of a dress or a feminine figure) – half dropped him. Shikamaru leapt across the ten-foot distance between him and the two unexpected visitors, catching Naruto before he hit the ground. The girl moved back, alarmed, and he looked up at her.

She was bigger than him, fully-grown in height, long unwashed brown hair tied back but escaping its pony-tail. Akatsuki were after her? The hermit-teacher had sent her here? Was she a demon-host too?

"Troublesome." Shikamaru muttered, looking back down at the unconscious blond. The thing he'd seem had to have been a summoned creature, which had brought these two back to Konoha. Presumably Naruto's summon, since he was the one who'd knocked himself out with chakra depletion. The girl didn't move like a ninja, in any case.

Naruto seemed unhurt, though, so Shikamaru put him down.

"Is he okay?" the girl asked.

"He will be once he's rested." Shikamaru answered, sitting himself down. This situation didn't look good. It looked complicated, which was annoying. This stranger wasn't getting introduced to his family until he knew more about her. "The Akatsuki are really hunting you?"

"Apparently so," she said, voice tight, tone rising in anger. "And I'd appreciate it if someone told me what the hell everyone knows about them that I don't. What do they want with me?!"

Shikamaru drew back, alarmed. She... she didn't know?

Oh god. No way was he going to tell her.

"It's... troublesome."

And it was. Very troublesome indeed, and just when he'd been enjoying the cloud-watching.

* * *

AN

Please don't be annoyed at the appearance of a original jinchuuriki character! Although actually I suppose, the most Sue-ish thing in this chapter is that Makoto can draw Shikamaru and I'd really like to be able to. Makoto: is he evil? Take a guess!

But anyway, what I _really_ want to know is this: how do you like Naruto's conversation with Jiraiya about the Yondaime? Is it confusing? Is it convincing? Do you think my version of Yondaime is interesting? Do you want to find out more about him?


	19. Anchor

This fic is officially going to be epic. I mean, there are three known plotting bad-guys, (Akatsuki, Orochimaru, Makuro Kenta), and then there's the Konoha councils. There's a huge amount of scheming going on, and from now on there's also going to be a lot more characters narrating.

Because of this, I'm putting the perspective, location and the time at the top of each section. I hope it's not annoying...

Enjoy!

* * *

_Nara Household, present time, Shikamaru._

* * *

Shikamaru didn't really know what to say or do with this foreigner girl. It wasn't that he was scared of her – she was scared of him, if anything, so she definitely wasn't a threat. No, what he felt was awkwardness, because her eyes had shifted from fear to hope when she realised he knew about the Akatsuki, and she'd demanded answers in a voice like Ino's or his mother's or sister's. 

That familiar voice made him realise he was going to be responsible for her. She was a mystery, and he'd only just started thinking about the problems she presented. There were lots of them, all of which would bring danger to the Nara lands while they sheltered her. The first question was maybe the most serious, given who was chasing her: _Is she a demon-host? _Shikamaru had assumed the Akatsuki were after the vessels of demons, the so-called jinchuuriki. But she didn't look like she could be one.

Then again, to Gaara and his family he himself must have looked unbelievably normal.

If she was it'd raise problems: it would have been a Hidden Village that had ordered a demon be sealed, and this village would not let its creation and tool be taken by another village, whereas they might have left her alone if she stayed as a neutral civilian. Maybe. But it seemed far-fetched, and trying to discern her true nature was making his head hurt.

_T__his has been _such_ a long day..._ He really didn't feel able to questioning her and analyse clues.

To escape, he looked at Naruto. The Yondaime's son wasn't seriously hurt, only asleep, but his tanned face was pale with exhaustion. It would be easier to deal with the other genin, for now. He'd put off thinking about the girl.

Shikamaru picked Naruto's limp form up and started to carry his friend back to his house.

A voice from behind him, cautious again: "Should I come with you?"

He looked back, frowning slightly. "Yeah."

* * *

She felt awkward following him. He didn't seem to want anything to do with her. Still, she needed help, so she made herself walk after his retreating back, despite the fact she at once wanted to run away, scream at him for rudeness, and break down and start crying. 

The whisker-marked ninja boy walked faster than her, not even seeming to notice he was carrying another person, and he only shifted the orange-wearing ninja's weight slightly to open the front door. Maybe you had lessons on how to do that in ninja school. But then as he walked through into a room with a sofa and chairs, he froze. Feeling awkward as a guest in a house of strangers, she followed him through and hovered in the doorway: in the centre of the room stood a petite woman who carried herself with the bearing of a teacher who knows she terrifies her students.

The woman's attention was focused on the orange-wearing ninja – called Naruto? - whose head lolled back over the arm that was holding him; it then redirected itself onto the visitor. The woman's stare had the intensity of a spotlight, and she was suddenly very aware of how dirty she was from days of travelling and cowering in the streets. She couldn't help but shift her weight uncertainly.

Thankfully, the scrutiny moved away from her after a moment.

"Shikamaru, _explain_."

"Ei-ah, yes, mum," hedged Shikamaru. She hadn't appreciated that he was a child before then, but it was very clear now, even though he'd seemed so intimidating with claws and fangs and an indolent red-eyed stare that looked straight through you. Now, Shikamaru was entirely a kid: he looked down, backed away, shrugged. He explained the following:

"Well, um, in brief, Naruto did something alturistic again. Just let me put him down."

Shikamaru moved and arranged Naruto on a sofa, tilting his head and positioning a cushion under him with an almost doctor-like attention. Were you meant to make sure unconscious peoples' airways were unblocked or something? Was that what he was doing? Shinobi probably learned these things in their training.

"Is he okay?" the woman – the mother – asked, concerned. "He doesn't need taking to the hospital, does he?"

"He just needs rest, mum. He drained all his chakra getting back here."

"Good." The word contained real relief. "You two sit down, then, and you can _explain_."

She couldn't help but hear that as a threat. Still, an explanation might be helpful, so long as they didn't expect _her_ to have one.

* * *

_Kanamura Town, one day previously, Jiraiya._

* * *

Jiraiya had been half hoping he was wrong about the Akatsuki's presence, but they were there all right. As soon as Naruto's summoned frog leapt off with its two passengers, a ninja wearing the distinctive cloak leapt to pursue it. And the individual in question was neither camp nor shark-like, so this was a separate team and they_ had_ been after the girl. That complicated things. 

The sannin moved quickly. First he cast a hail of shuriken, making the attack harder to avoid with use of the _kage shuriken _technique. It forced the single visible shinobi to stop chasing his student long enough to dodge in mid-air by rebounding off a building. Dashing towards the man, he used _katon: housenka no jutsu._

The Akatsuki landed, rolled, and turned with a snarl to face Jiraiya. He was taller than average, his features covered by a hood (now lightly charred). His eyes stood out, glowing irises against a black surface, striking against tanned skin. Jiraiya didn't recognise the man, but he quickly memorised his visible features, taking note of his hitae-ate headband: the symbol of Hidden Waterfall, scratched out.

Still, there was no time to be lost if there was a second opponent. Two Akatsuki attacking at once might well kill him, and Jiraiya was not a man to get himself killed trying to prove something. No, attacking to disable and getting out of the line of fire would always be the best strategy.

"_Ninpou: gamaguchi shiburi!_" Jiraiya shouted, leaping up and away even as his hands formed the last seal. The Akatsuki pushed off the ground to follow his enemy, but the walls closed in on him, taking on a flesh-like appearance. He didn't make it out – the summoned oesophagus of a giant toad penned him in, its acidic walls making a stronger trap than stone would.

Jiraiya didn't look back at the cage he'd created. He'd caught sight of the next Akatsuki, who was traversing rooftops at full speed. The sannin saw light hair and the trademark red-on-black-cloak, and one of the man's hands was holding a – scythe? Unusual choice of weapon. The man was moving at an only slightly slower speed than the toad was, Jiraiya estimated. He had to be stopped..

The sannin threw a hail of shuriken and kunai, even though the range was too great for accuracy. Hopefully the man was dumb enough to be provoked.

It was Jiraiya's lucky day. The Akatsuki stopped, turning to face the man chasing him on top of a broad flat roof. He had the kind of face, Jiraiya saw (with immediate dislike) that women loved: young, smug and naturally attractive. _And he knows it, the prick,_ the sannin thought, seeing clear eyes examine him and lips curl in elegant disdain.

"A white-haired old man travelling with a blond brat... that makes you the Sannin Jiraiya, eh? I guess it's not surprising you managed to delay Kakuzu, then. But you're certainly not as strong as Orochimaru, seriously, and you won't be a threat to us for long."

"Che," Jiraiya sneered straight back at the man with a bravado he didn't feel. Taking on two members of Akatsuki at once just wasn't an option, he'd be screwed. But he had to stall this one for a minute or two, or risk endangering Naruto and the girl and the Nara boy and his team and family. Not an option. He'd challenge this one then run, because these were the kind of prodigies that could well get past even the best imprisonment jutsus. He bluffed: "So, will you introduce yourself, or do I need to teach you respect for your elders?"

The so-called brat raised an eyebrow, then nodded, unpleasant amusement cleaer on his face.

"Just give me a minute." He produced a necklace with a faintly familiar symbol: an inverted triangle within a circle. "I must offer my prayers to my god."

He raised it to his lips, kissing the ebony triangle. Jiraiya remembered it: the symbol of the Cult of Jashin. It had been reported that they'd all died, which had generally been considered no bad thing, given that their god had advocated indiscriminate nihilistic slaughter. The fact that a man survived to bear that symbol was worrying.

But Jiraiya only took a moment to contemplate this. He thought up a plan next, then he bit his thumb, slapping his hand down to summon Gama.

Gama lashed a tongue out as the unnamed cultist looked up, aggrieved and scornful. The silver-haired man was fast, though, and his scythe arced upwards, the three blades blade dangerously near Gama's vulnerable tongue. The appendage was nicked by the smallest blade, but the amphibian persevered, twisting his tongue around the man's ankle and tugging, forcing him to roll away with his body tucked defensively inwards. By the time the silver-haired man regained his footing, his enemies had gone.

Hidan moved to the edge of the building, mouth curled in disgust. The Jashin cult's precepts were that bloodshed was to be indiscriminate, and that actions towards them should be absolute: destroy utterly, or refrain from killing. The Legendary Sannin Jiraiya would not escape.

* * *

_Nara Household, present time. _

* * *

Shikamaru's mother ducked into her kitchen, and the girl took a moment to study the boy in front of her. She hadn't considered his age before, but seeing him with his mother... It was strange. He'd looked dangerous at first sight, he'd been crouching like he was about to pounce, and he'd moved faster than she could see. His face had been intimidating, sharp dark lines down the sides of it, eyes focused and dark red like jewels. He'd not looked human. 

But his mother looked like him (once you looked past the weird markings and creepy eyes), and she told him off like anyone's parents would. And now she could see how his face was oval and his skin was clean and smooth, and it added up to show that he was younger than her, not even teenage.

It really was like the shinobi were another race, if their children could seem so dangerous.

The mother came back, immediately drawing the attention of both children. She placed small cups of tea on a table, then sat in an armchair opposite them, resting her chin on her hands and looking at them with sharp expectant eyes.

"So. Introduce us, Shikamaru."

"Um."

Shikamaru's eyes slid to her, guiltily. He hadn't asked her name.

"My name is Rinku," she said, "And I'm from the land of Earth. Pleased to meet you, I suppose."

What to say, when you were alone and endangered in a country you don't know?

_Please like me, please don't leave me to panic about what to do again. I'm not a ninja, I don't know how to hide or run or fight. Please look after me. _

_I'm sorry I sound pathetic, but I'm lost here. Please. _

_No-one ever told me why I had to run, or how to. I can't do this._

_Please._

_Help._

...She didn't say any of those things. She wanted to, but her voice had trembled at the end of her self-introduction. Those weak words wanted to come bursting out of her mouth, she wanted to cry and cling to this mother. She hadn't realised how much she missed having attention paid to her by... someone who sounded like that. A parent.

She didn't trust herself to say anything.

The other woman seemed calm. She slanted an accusatory look at her son before smiling and introducing herself in turn, casual-voiced although her expression hinted at something deeper. "Nara Yoshino. This is my son, Shikamaru, and Kazama Naruto is the name of the unconscious genin over there."

As soon as – even before – Yoshino stopped speaking, Rinku had wondered if she should explain how she met Naruto. She needed to make a right impression, she had to. But she didn't know how to! Thankfully, Shikamaru spoke up.

"Naruto came here on the back of something that I think was a giant toad, told me that the sannin Jiraiya told him to take her here, then fainted." he sighed, and drawled: "It confused me."

Yoshino's eyes had narrowed.

"Why?"

"Naruto," Shikamaru replied, his voice now slow and careful and mutedly angry, "also said the Akatsuki were after her."

That changed the atmosphere, like thunder introducing a storm. It created a weight over them all, and Yoshino's eyes suddenly seemed to pin Rinku down, their curiosity turning deeper. The name Akatsuki changed everything, or seemed to.

She didn't let herself ask the questions that had been growing in her mind through the long, horrible journey here, but they reappeared in her mind and haunted her. She'd been feeling so angry, so helpless over the last few weeks that she'd snapped and virtually screamed at Shikamaru when he'd seemed familiar with the name, but now...

She couldn't ask about the Akatsuki. She needed to seem mature and honest and behave properly, like a guest. She should stay calm.

"The Akatsuki." Yoshino spoke the name almost under her breath, but with a vehemence that made the words carry. "You're not a ninja, correct?"

"No."

"Are you related to any shinobi?"

Rinku felt almost ill, despite her intentions of calmness. The focus these questions were asked with made her feel like she was on trial, and there had to be some horrible truth behind this group, behind their hunting of her. Not knowing about it was terrifying.

"Are your family shinobi?" Yoshino asked again, kindly but firmly. Rinku realised she hadn't replied and felt flustered.

But she nodded. She could answer questions about her family, she'd asked them enough times herself to be clear on the details. "My father's family were from the Hidden Village in Earth, Iwagakure. My mother moved there and became a ninja there, but she died a long time ago. I've always lived near the coast, with my aunt. I've never been to a Hidden Village."

"You have now," Yoshino told her, smiling slightly, reaching out to Rinku with a smile. "This is Konohagakure."

* * *

Shikamaru couldn't quite share his mother's attitude. She was being all kind and understanding, and now her body language was radiating maternal concern. Shikamaru couldn't do that - perhaps because it was a female thing, perhaps because it was a civilian thing. Maybe it was an adult thing. But either way, he didn't have the patience to listen to this discussion. He wanted answers – this tall, dirty-faced civilian girl was having to run away from the most dangerous group of missing-nin in existence, and he wanted to know _why_. 

An idea occurred to him.

"Do you have a brother or sister?"

"No," She shook her head, then brushed her hair behind her ear in a nervous gesture. Shikamaru looked at her. She wasn't have been a prospective hostage against some as-yet-unknown demon-vessel Stone-nin, then.

He didn't like this situation. He'd assumed that anyone that the Akatsuki were hunting was a demon-host, but he found it hard to believe that she was such an individual. Comparing this Rinku and Gaara just _didn't work_.

Shikamaru thought. Makuro Makoto had summed up _his _appearance in a drawing: The pencil-sketch had shown his face in simple lines - the line of his jaws was rounded, but his cheeks and chin were flat, and the whisker-marks cut across that skin and gave his profile a sharp look. Elegantly but unnervingly, it had shown Shikamaru's face, alive with repressed feral energy.

This newcomer to Konoha... He tried to analyse her in a similar way. Her face was oblong, her jawbones and chin giving it a squarish shape. Her eyes were deep brown, and her face seemed tanned, as far as he could tell through the accumulated grime from days of fleeing and sleeping rough. Her hair was the length Ino's had been before she'd cut it, but was dark brown, curlier and mostly tied back in a thick dark ponytail. Only mostly, though: it had clearly suffered from Naruto's get-away toad-riding, and much of it had escaped. She'd suffered from the journey, as well, and her body showed signs of weariness. She was tall and long-limbed and broad – not _fat_, really, but she was neither thin nor curvy, and her height emphasised that shapelessness. Her fingers were long and nervously interlaced, her eyes kept returning to her hands.

His mother was looking at him expectantly, and he realised he hadn't explained his reasons for asking about her siblings. He sighed, brushing back his annoyingly long bangs from his face.

"Okay, I'll explain: The reason you were brought _here_ in Konoha is that Akatsuki tried to capture me, too. And they kidnapped my sister in order to exchange her for me. I was trying to think of a reason they'd be after you."

Yoshino gave him a _look_, but nodded slightly and returned her attention to Rinku. She explained about Rumiko and how she'd been kidnapped and summarily rescued. Hearing the story again, Shikamaru felt uncomfortable. It made him sound responsible, heroic, even. It hadn't been a success, though, and his own memories of the mission were strained, tense, coloured by fear and the shuddering recollection of the visions of the Mangekyou sharingan. They'd only just escaped. They'd been lucky to do even that.

His mother didn't know what she was talking about, saying it like that.

* * *

_Kanamura Town, one day previously, Hidan._

* * *

Hidan leapt off the roof he had confronted Jiraiya on, landing in a neat crouch and standing up languorously. He brushed a lock of hair back, surveyed the crowd. He'd noticed a disturbance from the roof, people all looking in the same direction. The sannin and his toad would have landed there. 

The devotee of Jashin hunted his prey, a faint smile growing on his face.

This way. His eyes darted there. A white rope of hair, a red top. his movements had been hasty, almost discrete. Hidan followed like a cat, checking his grip on his scythe. We will bite into blood, we will celebrate Jashin's glory.

He kept his back to the building. There was sound within, many people. Did the sannin really think he could lose this excellent hunter in a crowd? Hidan had been stalking and hunting for years. He ran his tongue over his teeth, eyes bright with excitement. There was laughter and the sound of water, bustling movement was audible. The sound of life, whose glorious blood would decorate the alters of the Lord-who-shows-the-way. Jashin will be celebrated.

Hidan lifted his eyes to the sky in exultation, one hand holding the Sign to his lips, pausing for a long moment.

Then, decisively, he turned and stepped through the open doorway.

Into the women's baths.

* * *

Jiraiya gasped in shock, hiding his nude form behind an entirely inadequate towel. His new friend (mentally, he giggled), pulled him behind her protectively, one fist raised in outrage. 

The sannin turned away, just in case the Akatsuki member recognised him. So far, his plan had been successful, but if the man recognised him and a fight started, it'd have been for nothing and there'd be a lot of collateral damage. That'd be bad. He'd dismissed Gama and hidden in an alley, and taken a risk: using Naruto's sexy-no-jutsu. It had created a waif-like womanly vision of himself, tall but skinny and fragile, dark-eyed and vulnerable. He'd pulled his red overcoat on but discarded the rest of his clothes, leaving himself exposed. He'd hesitantly emerged from the alley -

And... it had worked perfectly! A kind woman, his new friend, had approached, and he'd spun her a tragic tale of sexual predation. She'd been sympathetic, delightfully so, and pulled him to the baths as the nearest feminine refuge.

What a perfect disguise! Hidan was being screamed at and couldn't get near enough to identify his target - the sexy no jutsu wasn't a true henge, and wouldn't be recognised as one even if he did think to look. Besides, the women had clustered around his poor victimised self protectively. And he was pulled away to a dressing room within seconds of the man intruding. Surrounded by bare flesh, it was all he could do to prevent a perverted giggle. But he was a masterful actor, and he kept to his disguise, listening. From the other room, he heard a male voice protesting innocence - he'd been right, the cultist was too much of a womaniser to slaughter naked ladies. But how kind these women were! Generosity like this towards the Toad Hermit was rare – there seemed to be some unthinkable misapprehension amongst people that the Great Jiraiya was somehow less than worthy of it. Sad times, sad times.

A tall woman leant Jiraiya a yakuta gown, helping him fasten the garment. He became completely unrecognisable as another brushed and fastened his hair with wonderful efficiency, covering his tear-stained face with make-up, and he thrilled at being a part of this womanly culture. Icha Icha Violence would celebrate the grace and beauty of the female rituals of dress, of their skilled hands arranging hair.

"Just you sit and wait here," he was told "I'll see if they're removed that pervert yet. We won't let anyone near you, will we?"

Jiraiya gave them a tremulous, thankful smile.

Icha Icha Violence, he decided, would tell the tale of a poor young peasant-girl fleeing an obsessively abusive man, finding refuge amongst the nine delightful sisters who ran the sacred baths in a crystal mountain village. The sisters would draw her out from her traumatised fear of sex, showing her the liberated joys of erotic communion...

Jiraiya was sometimes amazed by his own genius.

* * *

_Yamanaka Household, present time, Chouji._

* * *

Chouji walked over to Ino's house after an afternoon training with his father. Akimichi Chouza had told his son how proud of the effort Chouji had been putting in to his training since the Chuunin preliminaries, and Chouji felt optimistic. Training had taken up most of his life for the last month and a half, but the time it took was rewarding. Chouji was good at taijutsu now, confident in himself in a way he hadn't been in the academy. Learning to move correctly had been arduous work, but his attacks had a hard-won precision. He'd taken Haruno Sakura down that morning easily, he'd held out against his father's superior strength in a spar (albeit not for long). 

He entered the shop, greeting Ino's mother. The elder Yamanaka waved him up, and he went through the door behind the counter. The flower-shop's back room was large, and flowers lined either side of it, and a long table ran down the middle. Ino stood at the far end of the table, holding a long-stemmed flower with one hand and rapidly removing the leaves from it with a scalpel-like knife. The action reminded Chouji of a skilled chef's chopping, effortlessly competence making every-day tasks beautiful to observe. He knew an expert chef wouldn't be distracted by something as simple as sound, so he called a greeting to his friend as he approached. Ino removed the last of the leaves with precision, held the flower sideways and sliced the stalk diagonally, then put it in a basin already replete with colourful flowers. She turned around just in time to smile at him before he reached her.

"Hey, Chouji."

But he wasn't fooled by her greeting. Her face was troubled.

"You're working again? I thought your mum said you needed more time off."

"Apparently," Ino told him, voice laced with sarcasm, "Time off is only permissible if it's time off from training."

Chouji patted her arm, not sure how else to convey his sympathy. Ino was more patient in a lot of ways nowadays, but she'd still snap his head off if he said something thoughtless.

The kunoichi-cum-flower-girl sighed, eyes heavy. She inattentively swept the large pile of trimmed leaves that on the worktop into a basket, then moved various bunches of flowers into places. She rinsed the knife she'd been using, placed it in a rack, then walked over to wash her hands in a sink against the wall. Chouji's eyes followed her; she seemed tired.

"Ino, we could always cut back on training time, if you want to. I've been meaning to spend longer in the kitchen."

He was offering an excuse for her, and they both knew it.

She turned to face the wall, leaning her weight against the worktop. The wall was unpainted, almost entirely covered by the racks of packaging and celophane wraps for the flowers. A fairly bleak sight. Ino's eyes were half-closed for a second, her face looked tired.

"Chouji, we made an agreement, didn't we?" And her face tilted back towards him so her eyes met his, hers displaying intense deep blue and determination. "We're Shikamaru's partners, aren't we? We're his team, and he's in danger."

Chouji nodded slowly. Ino's hair was tied back, brushing the top of her shirt. Her weight rested on her hands against the table, her back was arched. Her head lowered.

"It's difficult to know how we can help, against our own town, against people like the Akatsuki. We're just genin, and we can hardly help, but... we have to try. Shikamaru's been so serious lately. There's so much going on, and he's worried about his sister on top of all that. I don't know Rumiko at all, so what can I do to help her? I just feel bad for her and for him, but I don't know how to talk to him about it..." She sighed. "I can't deny you understand him more, you two have always been closer than best friends, so maybe you know better than me... but. I dunno. I just feel like I've got to do _something_, training at least lets me feel like I'm not _completely _useless!"

She twisted suddenly and slammed a fist into the wooden work-top, teeth bared.

Chouji's eyes widened, but he didn't move for a second. Ino stayed taut, knuckles and fingers turning white against the wood. The tendons in her arms stood out. Slowly, the Akimichi lifted a hand to her shoulder.

"Ino, it's okay."

She was biting her lip, and her eyes were bright. He ran his hand down her back in an attempt at a comforting gesture.

"You don't need to worry about him so much, you know. Shikamaru's clever and he's strong. He'll be okay."

Ino choked, and her face twisted and chin crumpled in on itself. Chouji felt horrified - Ino had never seemed to him like someone who could be brought to tears. And he realised that his words had made her cry, and it felt horrible. Chouji realised what he'd said that was wrong: _she wants to help him, telling her Shikamaru's okay on his own is wrong - she needs to know she's helpful_.

_But she is helpful!_

"Ino, don't cry. Remember, you did help Shikamaru, when we went to rescue Rumiko. We couldn't have done that plan without you, so please don't think you're useless. You're not! And we've learnt a lot even since then, training with Kurenai-sensei and our families! Don't cry, Ino."

With a kind of blotchy, tearful helplessness, Ino started laughing at his worried sincerity. Chouji hugged her, murmuring useless things like 'it's okay'.

He told her he'd treat her to Korean Barbecue; food always made _him_ feel better. She laughed, head buried in his shoulder, and accepted. She excused herself to get changed, and when she came down, the tears were gone and she was wearing a pretty skirt and her hair was down.

He hoped she'd understood. They were a team, and none of them needed to doubt it.

* * *

_Nara Household, present time, Shikamaru._

* * *

"Dear," Yoshino told Rinku, "We don't know why the Akatsuki are after you, but you can stay here until we find out more and until everything's sorted out. We'll take care of you. And when Naruto wakes up, we know a bit more about what's going on, right? But don't worry about that just now, because now you need a bath and hot food and sleep. You can borrow some of Rumiko's clothes, they shouldn't be too bad a fit." 

The girl looked up at her, real gratitude in her face.

Shikamaru watched the two of them as Yoshino ushered their guest down the hallway to the bathroom, feeling deeply uneasy.

_Why's she being hunted? _

There were a lot of possibilities, too many to analyse. He hoped they'd grow manageable in time. Could you seal a demon into a person without leaving clues to its presence? Her parents had been ninja, perhaps she was a demon-host, but they'd sent her away so she could live without that particular stigma. Shikamaru didn't know what the Hidden Village of Stone was like, he didn't know enough to make a hypothesis.

There just weren't enough facts.

Not enough facts, and there had been too many meetings between strangers today, too many questions and unclear answers. He walked down the hall and lay flat on his back on his bed, mind buzzing. He sorted through his thoughts, slowly, at random. His mind overturned information; eventually, it returned to the odd interview he'd had with Makuro Makoto, and the questions that had left unanswered.

Eventually, he found the question that stood out. It was the keystone to the puzzle of Makuro Kenta – if he knew the answer, his logical mind told him, things would start to make sense.

This was it: Makuro Kenta, who wanted the demon fox dead, had left Konoha just after two meetings: first, one with the Sandaime; second, with his brother.

_He left of his own accord, as far as we can tell_, Asuma had said. Makoto hadn't mentioned why Kenta had left, but he _had_ said that his brother had been trying to kill Shikamaru _for the last twelve years._ That implied he'd left for a reason, one connected to his assassination attempts. And he knew that now, Kenta was back - after nearly twelve years. What had he being doing for all that time? From the hatred in his gaze when he'd looked at Shikamaru, he was still intending to kill him.

_Why did he leave? Why has he come back now?_

Shikamaru shivered. He needed to find out.

* * *

I wonder, can anyone guess what's going on with Kenta? I haven't dropped enough hints for the whole thing to be obvious, but there _are_ clues there. What did the Sandaime tell him? Well, how do you think you could persuade a guy intent on killing a demon from murdering its vessel? It's going to be _important_, so let me know what your thoughts are... 

I'm going to keep writing chapters of this length - there's a lot of strands of this story, so it works better like this, I think. This chapter was nearly even longer - Rinku's long introduction was going to include Naruto waking up, but that'll have to wait. There'll more finding out of stuff next chapter - she learns that Shikamaru's a demon-host, and there'll be consideration of that. There'll also be a longer scene with Ino and Chouji, and they'll have serious conversations with Shikamaru. Because I'd been neglecting them, and I'm sorry about it.

Also, in next chapter - Rumiko, now with dialogue, and ...Gaara! Yupyup. As the newly instated Kazekage, no less. Look forward to it, and **please review!**


	20. Attirer

Somehow, Shikamaru slipped from contemplation of worries into a near-sleep state. It wasn't until he heard his mother call the household to the table and jumped up from his bed in alarm that he realised how far his mind had drifted.

He got up, padded through the living-room (which still contained Naruto, on his back on the sofa and now drooling slightly) to the kitchen. His father was still absent, but three females sat at the table. To his surprise, Rumiko was sitting turned to Rinku.

He took a seat, looking at their newly-clean guest. Rinku was darker-skinned than anyone born in Konoha, and a diamond shape of whiter skin sat between her eyebrows, evidently some kind of clan mark. But those observations didn't register with the demon-host nearly as much as one thing: Rumiko was talking. For the first time since the kidnapping incident, his sister was making conversation. Shikamaru and Yoshino looked at each other over the table, communicating silently._ Maybe this'll be good for her. Maybe she'll get over things._

* * *

Gaara had spent a lot of time talking to his brother and sister during the journey that the failed Suna invasion force took back home. It was difficult, talking. He didn't know how to express things, and they weren't sure how to reply. For a long time, they were scared of offending him, of bringing Shukaku's rage back into his eyes. They were glad to communicate, but they didn't find it easy. Nor did he. Gaara didn't know how conversations worked, wasn't comfortable, couldn't fit into routines and companionship and camaraderie like his siblings could. 

The breakthrough came when he talked to Kankuro late one night. They were sitting in darkness, and Gaara's head was tilted back to the crescent moon. The night was crisp and clear; Kankuro was leant forward, arms curled around his raised knee. He was looking forward, lazy-eyed.

Kankuro had just said something _stupid_. Something about Gaara doing what he wanted, aimed to keep him happy._I don't want to be given freedom_, Gaara had realised. _I want there to be bonds between us, I want to keep people safe._

It was a new thought to the demon-host.

He'd turned to Kankuro with a smile that had seemed disturbing to the puppeteer, lit as it was by the moonlight. Gaara's eyes had been pale and shining in the light, they'd almost glittered with determination. Gaara's face was usually blank, his only natural expressions were the ones he'd developed under the influence of blood-lust. They seemed manic.

"I'll defend your existence, Kankuro."

"_Defend_ me?"

"I'm not going to run away."

Gaara's thumb had brushed the kanji symbol on his forehead – _ai_. Love. He'd replaced his hands in his lap, slowly. He'd shut his eyes, seeing something Kankuro couldn't, and murmured: _no-one will threaten our existence._

* * *

Shikamaru had seen his sister talking, and at the sight he'd decided he'd forgive Rinku anything. He'd be happy for her to be an uninvited guest at the Nara house, if looking after her would heal Rumiko's guilt and pain even a little bit. 

The fox-host felt happy, focused. Lying outside watching the sunset, he made a plan. He'd go back and talk to Makuro Makoto tomorrow, he'd wait until Naruto woke up and then determine whether Akatsuki wanted to kill Rinku and why. And when Shikaku returned, he'd start working on the problem of how to gain the council's approval.

Footsteps on the patio, moving towards him. He sat up.

"Shikamaru?" It was Rumiko.

He turned to look at her. Her hair had been brushed, her eyes were shadowed from a lack of sleep, but her face wasn't as expressionless as it had been yesterday._ Why? Is it having someone to look after that's pulled her away from her grief?_

"Shikamaru," Rumiko murmured, coming to sit next to him. "Promise me, promise me that you'll keep everyone safe from the Akatsuki."

_How can I, Rumiko? _

He bowed his head. Rumiko's eyes were too dark and too hopeful, but he couldn't resist saying words that would heal her grief. He reached out and held her hands between his own hands.

I promise.

* * *

They hadn't learnt exactly what Gaara meant by his promise to defend them until the next day, but they'd have decided to support him anyway. Temari and Kankuro and Baki were initially uneasy, but the strength of Gaara's will drew them in. He had convictions, he had determination. By the time the group arrived back in Suna, they even had a plan. Gaara would be Kazekage. 

It worked. The Village Hidden in the Sand had old laws governing it, and the oldest of them was this: the strongest shinobi is the one whom you shall submit to. Their father had won the position by killing his predecessor, and the Right to Combat was considered a fair law. The council didn't want to appoint Gaara as their ruler, but they couldn't find someone who'd take the position and risk being challenged by Gaara for leadership.

He was the strongest ninja in Sunagakure. No-one could deny that. And by the time a month had passed, this wary acknowledgement had evolved – he was accepted by his village. Baki and Temari took governing positions, Gaara spent nights learning about the political forces that ruled Village diplomacy, and held meetings with ambassadors and his own council. He and Kankuro drastically changed the teaching system of the village, Gaara sent people to speak to the authorities that governed Wind Country, demanding change.

He had a new purpose.

* * *

Rumiko had gone back inside as soon as she'd received a promise from her brother, but Shikamaru sat until the sky was the deepest of blue-greys, almost entirely black. The reds and pinks of the setting sun had settled below the horizon, stars had become visible. The air was cold and fresh. 

Movement behind him. It broke through the calm state his mind was in, and his head jerked round to face the person whose footsteps had registered. It was Rinku.

"Um, Shikamaru?"

He was going to be polite and non-threatening. Right. He gestured to the grass beside him, which wouldn't yet be wet with dew.

She sat, then turned to him. Even in the dark, he could see well enough to distinguish between her normal skin tone and the lighter shade of the clan mark between her eyes. She obviously couldn't see as well; she blinked repeatedly, peering at him.

"Did you want something?" Shikamaru asked.

"I hope that it's okay for me to stay here... I mean-"

"It's fine." She didn't need to be so nervous about that. "We lost someone that we cared about, when Akatsuki attacked before. Me, my sister, my mum: we'd all be glad to be able to help someone else escape them. Really, you're welcome here."

She nodded, or perhaps ducked her head to hide her embarrassment. Shikamaru felt vaguely awkward, in the way that talking to any female made him feel: either self-conscious or wary of imminent pain. This Rinku was kind of like a baby – anything he said could might her cry.

"Look, Shikamaru," she said after a minute, "I don't want to be – intrusive, but please. Please tell me why the Akatsuki are hunting people. Because... I don't want to die not knowing that."

He'd known Naruto had picked her up in the middle of a town on her own, but it hadn't really occurred to him that she'd been running for her life, running like the helpless prey of infinitely stronger hunters. But that was it: she was a civilian, untrained. There were no missions in the world she lived in, she didn't know what to do if someone was tracking her, armed with jutsu and kunai. Death was an abstract concept to her, dealing it out was not a life skill. She was terrified by this all.

Shit. Why was this his responsibility?

* * *

The first hold-up came after four weeks of sheer hectic activity. The Presidential Minister of Wind Country decided to come to the village to meet its new ruler. 

The first thing Gaara knew about the visit from his country's ruler was his sister running in to the office, flustered. The first thing he felt was anger. This was the man who had weakened their country, who had run down the shinobi population into poverty, who had enforced laws that stole the more skilled civilians from the hidden villages to give them jobs in government. And this was the man who had made his father desperate enough to try and strengthen Sand's ninja community by sealing the Shukaku into his son.

Gaara nodded to her to send him in. He forced himself to sit still, restricted the senses that were reaching out to the sand in his gourd to prepare for battle. As Kazekage, he had to be calm.

An aide came, bowed, and placed the formal Kazekage robes in front of him. It had been a new experience for Gaara, wearing folded and starched linen. The hat he'd hated – it restricted his vision and sat uncomfortably. It had taken discipline to wear the formal arraignments with grace. It had taken patience and a calm mind, almost as much as it had to refrain from violence.

He'd succeeded in both cases, so far. This next meeting would test him, but he would keep to his decision. He dressed, pulling a cloth over the lower part of his face, because Temari had actually _giggled_ at him when she'd seen him with the brim of the hat pulled over his face; apparently, his cheeks were chubby. For now, appearance was important. He needed to look like a Kazekage. And so it was with his eyes alone visible that he walked into the conference room, sitting at the head of the table. Baki stood beside him, and they waited together in the cool, still, empty room.

The Presidential Minister entered, wearing fine robes of deep blue, a turban of the same colour covering his face. His neck and hands were wrapped in pale green fabric, and his face was deeply lined and unhealthily pale. He was followed by an entourage: three elderly males who had at one time been ninja, dressed to fit in with the Suna population and two others, walking ahead of the former shinobi, who looked like members of one of the Wind Country noble dynasties. One was female, with a knot of hair encircling her neck sleekly, the other was a green-eyed young man. Gaara stood and inclined his head, though only slightly.

They came forward and seated themselves in front of his cold eyes, all choosing to stay on the other side of the table. He felt satisfaction: he had his back to the door, and they didn't. Face immobile, he gave them a formal greeting.

"We are honoured to be received as guests in your house, my friend." The presidential minister replied: "Please, there is no need to keep yourself so formally attired."

Gaara's eyes glinted. He wanted to take the hat off, but it had been presumptuous of them to invite him to do so, from what he understood of manners. This was his domain, he ought to be in control.

Nevertheless, he tilted his head and removed the heavy hat.

Gaara revealed his face slowly, and the fixed attention of the Presidential Minister grew stronger still. This was the country's new head ninja? The strongest warrior of his country? He was the strangest, sure, but his cheeks were rounded and his skin was soft. He looked about ten years old, except for those eerie black-rimmed eyes.

"You... are the son of the Yondaime Kazekage, am I correct?" The minister asked.

Gaara resisted the urge to sneer at him, but only just. The man spoke too slowly, like he was reading a speech, and every syllable was precisely emphasised. It made Gaara's blood boil, and Shukaku amplified the anger. To keep calm, Gaara had to shut his eyes for a moment and blank everything out.

Meditation had helped greatly to control the demon over the last month, and Gaara had become skilled at it. It took only a second for the Kazekage to raise glossy black walls around his mind, black like a lake at midnight. He focused and released the image, then answered as slowly and calmly as the minister had spoken.

"Indeed. My name is Sabaku no Gaara."

"I understood," the minister said, crossing his legs and trying to push his chair back casually, only to finding the chair was heavy stone. He shifted, and started again: "I understood that you had two older siblings. Were they not taken into consideration when the title was handed down?"

"Kazekage," Gaara told him, voice icy, "Is the strongest ninja of Sunagakure no Sato."

One of the entourage, the male noble, leaned his elbows on the table and idly picked at his teeth with a long-nailed finger as his eyes turned slowly from Gaara to the Presidential Minister. His eyebrows were raised. Gaara wanted to kill him for the amused scepticism he exuded.

The minister sat up straighter, then tapped the arm of one of the ex-shinobi, giving the man a pointed look. The man pulled out a bingo book, flicking through the listings of ninja.

Gaara crossed his arms over his chest, expression static.

"You're stronger than your brothers and sisters, then?" Asked the female in the retinue. She was leant towards him, khol-lined eyes curious.

Gaara nodded once.

Baki coughed slightly, drawing their attention.

"I think, good minister, you can rely on our village's ability to judge the strengths of its shinobi. Those listings of yours are outdated, you will not find Gaara in there."

"You are... how old, Gaara?" The nobleman spoke this time, faintly sarcastic. He was young himself, and obviously not a ninja. Foppish hair fell into his face, and his silk clothing was impractical for Suna.

"My age," Gaara's voice was flat, and he addressed the minister, not looking at the young noble. "Is irrelevant. The laws state that the best ninja of the Hidden Village rules over it."

The Presidential Minister shifted in his seat, sending a quelling look to the noble. He turned back to Gaara and drew in a deep breath.

"Sabaku no Gaara, young man. I do not doubt your aptitude in ninja skills, I'm sure you're quite the prodigy, but I'm afraid that- well, I have to keep some reservations about your experience in keeping up on the administrative side of things, you see. I really think it'd be best if I could have a talk with the council members, just in the spirit of-"

Gaara leaned forwards, resting his weight on his hands on the table. The black rings around his eyes made the unusual colour of the irises stand out, and the Presidential Minister found he couldn't look away. His speech trailed off.

"Minister. I think I'm forming reservations about you. You came in here to analyse me - you have failed at that. A prodigy, am I? I would have thought my name was familiar to you. The third child of the Fourth Kazekage. You are a_careless_ man to forget the identity of someone whom you created."

The Presidential Minister's expression was oscillating between fear, confusion and panic, but Gaara hadn't seen any hint of recognition in it. He didn't normally want to be seen as a demon or the product of one, but politics meant manipulating people, and Gaara was better at creating fear than dancing and parrying sceptical comments. Besides, he wanted to shut this man up. He couldn't kill him, but he could reduce him to the pathetic trembling creature he was through words and terror. Gaara brought two fingers to his lips in a mock hand seal, noticing one of the ex-ninja flinch back. He would stop this foolish man with his scorn and doubtful voice.

"I am Sabaku no Gaara, one who was unloved. My father held a correspondence with you thirteen years ago, discussing your management of the ninja economy, I believe. Do you remember? The lives that are led out here are distasteful to you, it seems, and perhaps the decision that you and he took was not something you wished to remember. But I am its outcome, you see. The strongest ninja in the Village Hidden in the Sand. I was created to be that ninja, and so, minister, I will take this village for my domain. It is too late for you to take your decisions and agreements back."

One of the three former ninja turned deathly pale and moved to stand up, or maybe to run away. The rest were watching Gaara warily. Baki noted from his respectful position behind Gaara's seat, feeling a surge of irrational pride that his most dangerous student was learning how to manipulate people.

Gaara spoke again, voice glacial and scorning: "This meeting is adjourned, and will reconvene in half an hour. Make use of the Archive Room as you wish."

The guests filed out, not speaking until they were outside the room. Gaara and Baki heard a high-voiced question from the single woman in the group, but couldn't make out the answer.

And as soon as they were out of earshot, Gaara sat heavily back in his chair, folding his arms and shutting his eyes. The sound of his breath was loud in the unfurnished room.

Baki waited respectfully until the Kazekage's posture shifted.

"Did you mean them to find the Village's records on you?"

Gaara nodded. "People who are scared are easy to deal with. And they won't know what to expect from what they find in the archives."

There were only records from the times before Gaara stopped killing people.

It was a good plan. Baki nodded, and the two of them started going over their list of demands for the Presidential Minister.

* * *

"I don't want to be some kind of pathetic refugee," Rinku said. "But I suppose if you're as unwelcome in the village as you imply, it'll only create another risk for me to let myself be seen." 

"It'd be a bad idea for the council to know you're staying in with my family," Shikamaru nodded. She was a civilian, and she'd been amazed and horrified to learn about Konoha's recent past, but quick to understand the politics of the village. "It'd be one more reason for them to cast doubts on me; skies know there are enough of those already. And it'd give the Akatsuki more chances to get to you."

"Shit, so I have to stay right here," Rinku ran one hand through the hair at the back of her head, twisting fingers through the thick curls. She pulled the resulting mass over her shoulder and put her hand to her chin.

"...Like a prisoner."

Shikamaru looked aside. The gesture reminded him of a child seeking comfort from a blanket; he hadn't missed the ways her eyes had shut tight, lips trembling.

"I don't want to hide. Why - I didn't do – Arrgh!"

She let go of her hair, and she shook her head violently. She stopped this quite suddenly, bowed her head.

"Sorry."

"Let's go inside," Shikamaru said. "You should sleep, and we'll talk about what you can do in the morning."

His own reasonableness sounded strange to him, but he lead her back inside, and she followed meekly.

* * *

Nara Shikaku was spying again. He'd spent a long time in administrative work; until Sabaku no Gaara had appeared on his lawn, he'd thought his fate as a crippled chuunin was to commit himself to paperwork. But now... 

He folded a square of tan paper deftly into the shape of a conch-shell, withdrew a tiny brush from his vest, and a grinding-stone and a block of the pigment that made the special kind of ink he needed for this. He dripped water on the flat slate stone, then gently ground the ink-block until the water took on the colour of it: a rich deep brown. The chuunin dipped his brush in this, then painted two tiny kanji on the inside of the shell-shape –_hearing_ and _shadow_. And then he lifted himself up, gently replacing the small shape in a pocket. He walked to the other side of the room, knelt by the darkest shadow on the floor, and performed a sequence of hand-seals. The jutsu had no name.

But, in another room, on the other side of the town, a delicately folded paper conch shell appeared, then miraculously unfolded. Neither of the occupants of the room noticed – Makuro Kenta continued speaking. The brown ink glowed black, then, silently, the paper unfolded itself until it lay flat on the wooden floor. The ink spread as if water had been poured onto it, and then the two kanji vanished.

Shikaku smiled grimly. The voice of the man who was trying to kill his son was loud in his ears now.

* * *

It's been a while, right? But yes next chapter you will find out part of Kenta's EEEVIL PLAN. 

I'm sorry about the long update-wait, but I've been very busy. But now, I've applied to University! And now, I'm going to find out at the start of January if I've got an offer to study English Literature at Cambridge!

Yeah. Aaaalso, I've now got a DeviantArt account. And it has a pretty picture of Naruto on it. Nominally Naruto as he looks in this fic, but mostly just a semi-realistic drawing of Naruto. Still, I'm quite proud of it, so please do go and have a look. It's: missed _dash_ nin _dot_ deviantart .com


	21. Abstraction

Sorry for not updating for so long! (Life got in my way...) This chapter's short, but I'm going to write more and more often, okay?

* * *

"He's a threat, Adiurat." Makuro Kenta's voice was fierce. "A _serious_ danger to the village! And we _can't _just do that!"

"I'm aware of that, Makuro." The councilman Adiurat sounded bored and suave in comparison. "I implore you, save it for the rest of the council."

The sound of movement; one of the two men had stood up. Makuro's voice again, low and angry. Shikaku couldn't make out what he said, but the vehemence of it was clear.

"Kages," Adiurat's voice was clearer than Kenta's and far more cutting. His response was dismissive: "Why do you_ think_ I'm so eager to have him removed?"

"I _think,_" Makuro Kenta retorted, nearly shouting; "That you're still trying to piss off Nara the Elder. I've told you what Sandaime said, and it's more important now than _ever!_ Do you realise the fucking _Akatsuki _are here? Does that mean anything to you? We've got to do act, and we've got to do it soon, right now!"

Silence for a moment.

"If you weren't so young, Kenta, I'd be seriously offended by your behaviour. As it is – you're trying my patience. I know what I'm doing. If you interfere... I'll kill you."

Movement; a moment later, a door slammed.

Then Adiurat laughed out loud, and the sinister sound made Shikaku shiver.

* * *

Waking up after knocking yourself unconscious through over-exertion is not pleasant. Naruto had been reminded of that far too many times over the last month, and he was reminded of it again as he rolled off Shikamaru's couch and landed on the floor.

"Aurghh..."

He rubbed the bump on the back of his head, hair even messier than before. The ground sure was hard... But- his hitae-ate was missing!

At the thought that someone had interfered with him in his sleep, Naruto shot to his feet and looked around. Then blinked – he trained in a field, not someone's house! Squinting in confusion, he examined his surroundings. Familiar ... Shikamaru's house!

With that, memory kicked in. Ero-sennin shouting at a girl, racing back to Konoha through the night. Akatsuki... he'd been racking his mind for any mention of that name for most of the long, painful ride home. It still didn't mean anything to him.

"Hey,"

Shikamaru was standing in a doorway, holding a bowl and chopsticks. Naruto was relieved; his friend didn't look quite so different and strange as he had done when they'd fought Gaara. His eyes and the whisker-marks were changed, yes, but the same lazy Nara attitude was there. During that fight, his friend had been crazy and feral, almost berserk. Seeing the Nara normal reassured Naruto more than he would have thought - Shikamaru's laid back attitude had always been comforting, even when it meant you had to bribe him to actually do anything. The thought that his dad and/or the bastard-fox had messed that up had worried Naruto.

But... he wasn't exactly going to say so. He wouldn't know how to, anyway, and there were some more important things to take care of first:

"So, you got any ramen for me?"

Shikamaru shook his head in amusement and led the way to the kitchen.

In deference to Naruto's appetite (the blond ninja had spent an an entire day without food and – apparently – weeks with no ramen), they put off talking until after a breakfast that consisted of just about every instant noodle in the house. Shikamaru tried to use the time to think: he wasn't sure what to tell Naruto. He trusted him, but Asuma had made it clear that telling Sasuke about Itachi was a bad idea, so keeping that information from Naruto would be prudent. He considered it, and felt torn. Naruto was a good friend and a better ninja than him, but putting Ino and Chouji in danger was horrible enough already...

It was all so difficult. Too difficult, nearly: there were so many things to consider at the moment.

"Sooo, Shikamaru, what's going on?"

Naruto didn't seem to see that difficulty – he asked the question as if the conversation was about gossip, not threats to peoples' lives.

"Too much at once, actually. It's... complicated."

"Everything's complicated, though!" Naruto gestured widely, indicating 'everything' "I mean, what isn't? Well, except ero-sennin's taste in women, I s'pose, but... come on!"

Shikamaru found himself grinning. And... he really did want to talk to Naruto. Wanted to tell someone what was going on, tell them how all the threads and plot and possibilities were mixed up in his mind.

So he started explaining.

* * *

Rumiko was really one of the nicest people Rinku had ever met. The Nara girl's voice was hoarse and scratchy, but she'd talked nonetheless, explaining things about ninja and life and the Nara family. She was strange, though; maybe because of the faint nervousness in her gestures, definitely because of the sadness that lingered in her eyes.

It was hard to remember she was younger than Rinku. Very hard.

But even though talking Rumiko made Rinku feel young, it also made her feel less helpless and awkward than she had before. She'd been feeling hunted and hysterical and terrified for days, and this was definitely an improvement. At least as long as she didn't think about the whole crazy story about demons being hunted. That, like ninja skills and summoned toads, was something too bizarre to comprehend.

But – no. She was somewhere safe now, and she'd try and get on and make friends with the Nara family and then she could live here and maybe even be happy, and when the Akatsuki had gone she could go and look for her aunt and go home. And she wouldn't let herself wonder if the ninja had killed her aunt. Not now.

* * *

Makoto wasn't really surprised when his brother entered his room through the window; Kenta had never been patient, and knowing the room number he wouldn't have taken the longer route through the front door when easier access from the outside was available. Still, the palpable fury on his sibling's face was a shock.

"That pathetic bastard Aduirat won't listen to me!" Kenta growled in introduction, striding round his brother's small room to face him across the table. He didn't sit down, though. Makoto sighed: he knew better than to expect greetings but was still irritated by the lack of one.

"He's fucking idiotic! He's going to try and sell the damned host-kid out; we fucking can't let him!"

"And it's nice to see you too, dear brother," Makoto said blandly. It was petty, but it gave him time to think about the previous statement.

"Pay attention, f'r-skies-sake!" Kenta slammed his hands down on the table, furious-eyed, tendons standing out on his neck.. "We _can't let that happen_."

"Yes, I know. I've never wanted anyone to capture or kill Nara Shikamaru, if you remember."

"Fuck, Makoto. Do you not fucking care? What if some other village get their scheming hands on him, what then? If the seal gets broken, we're all screwed! And if he dies, that seal breaks. Either way, it's not going to be fucking pretty. _But I found a way to stop it._ I found a way, and I have got to use it. Come on, skies-sake, listen to me!"

Makoto sighed and rested his chin on his hand, looking at his brother's fury and feeling distant from it. Unmoved. He wished he'd said more to Shikamaru, and he regretted the fact his brother was never going to turn back from this route. He couldn't really help either of them, now.

* * *

Naruto and Shikamaru set off at once, heading down to the center of the village to meet their teams, which were still training together. Naruto had promised not to mention Itachi to Sasuke, and then told the fox-host that he wanted to be involved in any future rescue missions. Shikamaru felt pleased - he'd missed Naruto's joking view on things. He'd missed the blond's honest enthusiasm.

When Sasuke saw the two of them approach together (Chouji waved, Ino and Sakura were busy discussing something in heated voices and didn't look up), he stalked over to them.

"Idiot." It sounded like a challenge, despite the lack of inflection.

"Oi, bastard, you missed me?"

Sasuke's expression was cold, but there was a flicker of emotion behind the Uchiha mask. He wasn't really all that much like Itachi.

"Not really. I'm going to miss the peace and quiet we had while you were gone, though."

"Really? Well, I missed kicking your arrogant ass, bastard."

Shikamaru really didn't understand those two. But at least it meant Sasuke wouldn't bother him so much... he took a seat beside Chouji, glad to take his mind off his mysterious guest and the Makuro brothers.

...And not knowing that the two most recent problems in his life were about to meet one another. Makuro Kenta was heading for the Nara house, a dangerous scroll of ancient jutsu on his back.


	22. Aggressor

Sorry for the long delay in updates – I've been taking a break because I wanted to concentrate on school stuff, 'cause I've got my offer from Cambridge (yay!!) but this means I now need to get an A in three of my four subjects to be able to take it up and go there. I've worked pretty hard, but I'm nearly through the exams so I'm devoting time to writing again. Thanks to everyone who's reviewed this, it's really encouraged me to write more and that's the reason I've got this chapter ready to post now rather than in a month's time.

I'll try not to leave half a year between updates ever again.

* * *

At Utuu's suggestion, we have a summary of events.

Previously, on **Interest**: Makuro Kenta accused **Adiurat**, the sinister white-haired councillor, of being in league with Akatsuki. **Kenta** then headed off to his brother **Makoto** (the cryptic yet artistically talented man who was crippled by the Kyuubi), and insisted Shikamaru had to be destroyed.

**Naruto** woke up in Shikamaru's house, was told who Akatsuki were, and he and Shikamaru headed off to see their teams, while **Rumiko** and **Rinku **made friends.

**Jiraiya** is still dicking around the countryside, merrily getting people into place for later plots.

* * *

Jiraiya didn't like hurrying when he was on a mission – it was so much more profitable and pleasant to take one's time and sample all a region had to offer. But hurry he could, when he had to. He'd found Tsunade in the third town he'd checked, having made that many visits in a day by substituting amiable information-seeking drinks with threats. People didn't expect it from him, so they gave in quickly. He'd even persuaded her to go back to Konoha without him, just by explaining that if he didn't take a message to the Kazekage, there was a chance that Hidden Sand would fall to the Akatsuki. She didn't agree to take the Hokage position, but she did promise to sort the councils out. He suspected she might well do both, and was inwardly very surprised at the effect that just allowing yourself to sound worried could have.

The fact he was being followed helped too, perhaps.

Now... his next task. The Toad Hermit wondered how best to go about talking to Sabaku no Gaara.

* * *

Shikamaru and his team sat, slumped or lay in the grass of one of the less-used practice grounds. They were all occupying themselves: Chouji idly munching on crisps, Ino creating a daisy-chain, and Shikamaru, naturally, watching clouds. Their conversation was as casual as their actions, but there was a deeper purpose to it: all three were putting their worries and problems on display, and none of them were looking at each other as they talked. There was a quiet, confessional air to the meeting.

Ino pulled petals off a daisy as she spoke. "Things are just so... tense at the moment, guys. My dad's busily spying on the council, and mum lost one of her suppliers when the Sound and the Sand invaded, so she's storming around angry all the time and hasn't got enough help. She wants me to give up training time to helping her. But... they're both worried about the danger. 'Bout Shikamaru."

She dropped the little bald yellow head of the flower, despondent. Her voice was blank and tired. "It's just all stressful. It's not life-threatening like any of those various people after you, Shikamaru-deary, but... I'm still tired of it all."

Shikamaru had lifted his head up on one hand, clawed fingers splayed out as his chin rested in his palm. Despite looking like a strange but friendly gargoyle, he had serious, sympathetic eyes as he noticed the hints of exhaustion on Ino's face. Worrying could be a damaging way to occupy your time. And Ino had had a lot to worry about recently.

Chouji sighed and both his friends recognised it as commiseration.

"You have learnt a lot of ninja stuff recently, Ino," Shikamaru observed, "Maybe try and impress your dad with the_ shintenshin_ stuff you figured out? You're a grown-up as a genin legally, convincing him you're self-reliant might help."

"He's hardly ever home, though; when he comes back it's to drink and have serious conversations with mum. About me."

"That sucks." Chouji commented. It did indeed suck.

"But Shikamaru, what're you doing at the moment?"

The fox-host gave the sky a look implying things had now become troublesome, and he leaned back and started telling the tale of Rinku's over-sudden appearance, the Makuro brothers, and all such happenings.

Why did he always have the dramatic stories to tell?

* * *

Rumiko was alone with Rinku, since Yoshino had gone down to the town to visit the Yamanaka family. The Nara girl was munching on a bread roll while watching their visitor attempt to plait a bit of her hair. She felt happy – it was a bright morning, and she'd missed lounging around at home with the deer outside and nothing that had to be done. The raw grief of Imn's death was present, but not all-consuming; forgetting everything else because of it seemed selfish.

She finished the roll and licked her fingers, just as Rinku, leaning on her desk to look in the mirror, gave up on plaiting her hair. It hadn't all been of the same length, so tufts had stuck out the side of the braid.

"I don't see how you can do this, Rumiko-san!", Rinku said, shaking her head with a mildly rueful smile, "It must take hours to plait all your hair, mustn't it?"

"Oh, a couple of hours. But it's kinda relaxing when you learn to do it without thinking. Like Shikamaru and his clouds."

"His clouds?"

"He watches them." Rumiko waved a hand vaguely heaven-wards. "They drift, and he ... meditates, more or less."

Rinku remembered he'd been doing that when she'd arrived, and said so.

"Yeah. He's probably spent half his waking life like that. I almost think he prefers clouds to human beings, although that's... kinda sad. I worry about him." Rumiko felt serious. Would Shikamaru have been more sociable if he hadn't been the Kyuubi's host? She worried that people had isolated him, at the Academy, in shops in the town, by poisoning their children's minds and telling vicious lies about him.

Rinku couldn't tell what Rumiko was thinking, but the display of sisterly concern had reminded her she was an uninvited guest. The Naras had all assured her they were willing to look after her, that they wanted to do anything they could to obstruct the Akatsuki, but the fact remained that she was eating their food and taking up space and needing looking after. Keeping apologising for this when she had no other options would only really annoy them, since there were no other options. But...

"I'm sorry," she said, "To take away Shikamaru's cloud-watching time. I'm being another worry."

Rumiko looked at her. The bit of hair she'd plaited was all fluffed-up and curly and sticking out from her face, and her eyes were displaying an almost ridiculous sincerity. Rumiko found herself grinning, and then laughing out loud. And Rinku joined in.

* * *

"It sounds a lot like this Makoto was hiding things."

The problem was, Shikamaru had liked Makoto. He'd been a calm, intelligent, talented man. And he hadn't blamed Shikamaru for having the Kyuubi sealed inside him.

He didn't want to believe that was an act that Makoto had put on.

But then... he was angry at himself for being so flattered by the idea of forgiveness when he'd done nothing wrong.

Still, he'd had suspicions. He remembered what he's thought before: why did Makuro Kenta come back now? Why is now the time for him to take revenge? Asuma had mentioned him leaving:

"_He left of his own accord, as far as we can tell. Less than a week after the ANBU stopped him assassinating you. He had a meeting with the Sandaime directly before his departure. We found that out a while back; but what we didn't learn until today was that he went to speak to his brother after he'd seen the Hokage."_

No-one had expected Kenta to leave so suddenly, even though he'd had his ninja status revoked. Makoto had asked to see Shikamaru now, after Kenta's return, when he'd never felt the need to do so before. Of course, that could be catalysed by the whole invasion incident and the fight with Gaara. But...

He'd explain to his team about it.

* * *

Rinku and Rumiko shared interests, it turned out. Rinku's aunt, who she'd been brought up by, was a stern teacher who sounded nearly as ferocious as Yoshino. She'd taken Rinku trekking all over the Land of Stone, and the two girls compared experiences of holidays and journeys and foreign towns. And losses: Rinku's aunt had woken her up in the early hours of the morning one night two weeks ago, produced a packed bag for her, and told her to dress and then hurried with her to the train station. The unflappable woman had been tight-lipped but her hands had trembled, and in a quiet road they'd met a hired shinobi guard, and Rinku's aunt had said it was too dangerous to explain why they had to leave.

And then Akatsuki had burnt the nin-guard with flame jutsu and he'd thrown Rinku to safety, and she'd heard her aunt scream behind her as she fled and hid herself. But she'd been told to keep running and not turn back.

Rumiko told her about the ambush that had stopped the carriages dead when she'd been leaving Konoha, and how Hoshigaki Kisame had smashed through the wooden doors of the vehicle and hacked straight through men's bodies.

But then she stopped talking – the deer had gone silent in their field, and in the quiet she could hear someone approaching at a run.

* * *

Jiraiya's audience with the Kazekage was awkward. He stood in the (thankfully cool) stone hall, facing the desk Gaara was sitting at. The red-haired kid was flanked by his brother and sister and an older advisor, and all four of them were stony-faced and stern.

He'd delivered information about the Akatsuki. It wasn't welcome news.

Gaara folded his arms. "So what do you advise us to do?"

Jiraiya scratched his face. "It's difficult. Naruto and I found this kid from Stone who was running away from them; which supports our evidence that they're making a move to catch all the Tailed Beasts."

The sannin noticed Gaara's face tighten at the casual mention of the bijuu. This killer kid really was still a child, and he wasn't at all comfortable with this conversation.

"The move I'd make, given there's now two potential targets in Konoha, would be to get a defensive force together there. Sand would be more defensible in terms of geography, but I have a stronger spy network around Konoha, and that counts for more. There's too much corruption we don't know about in the Sand holdings. If you can manipulate it, corruption's good. If not, it's more dangerous than all the missing-nin in a land."

Temari and Kankuro exchanged looks.

"Give us time to discuss this, please," Gaara asked. _He'd learnt icy formality well,_ Jiraiya thought. _Let's hope he's decisive, too. Let's hope he's as clever a kid as Naruto thinks._

* * *

Rumiko went out to the front door, telling Rinku to stay in her room. The Nara daughter felt nervous and wasn't quite sure why, but then, she realised, there were more than a few people who wanted the Naras out of the way. None of them ought to know there was a probable demon-host refugee in the house.

It was a black-haired man.

Rumiko turned, wishing she'd bought a kunai. There was sweat on her face, she noticed. She felt like the blood had drained from her face, she was shaking. Nervous reaction to danger after... what had happened before. She felt dizzy, and she'd turned to go back to her room but forgotten to think of how much time she had.

The door was thrown open behind her, and in a gust of air that slammed another door at the back of the house (the sound made Rumiko jump and her heartbeat grew stronger as she shrunk back) the invader of their house was in front of her.

A fierce-faced man with scars like claw-marks across one cheek, not older than the average jounin-sensei, a long-bladed serrated knife in one hand. He had an old scroll slung over his back, in the way travelling-nin did.

"Tell me where your brother is, girl. _Now!_"

Rumiko took a step back, but only so her centre of gravity was low and she could stand and (if not fight) hold her ground. The scars on the man's face were very much like Shikamaru's whisker-marks, so this was Makuro Kenta, who wanted to kill her brother. She felt terrified and dizzy and so very nervous, but she had been trained as a ninja, if only for a while, and she was not going to be intimidated into crying and giving in.

Her attempt at bravery was short-lived: just then, the man's attention shifted. A second girl was standing in a doorway, eyes wide and scared. Rinku had picked up a kunai and she held it with an amateur's grip.

Kenta smirked. In a flash, he pulled Rumiko back by her hair, twisted her to face away from him, pinned her arms, and held his knife at her throat. He advanced towards the second scared girl.

"So who are _you,_ now?"

Rinku clung to the door-frame. She'd made a mistake and what if Rumiko got killed because of it, what then? Rumiko was kind and her family would be heartbroken and it would be her fault.

"_Who_, girl?"

Rinku thought fast. "I'm... I was, dating Rumiko." This statement was backed up by the fact she was wearing Rumiko's overlarge t-shirts and her hair was a mess from attempts to braid it. And she blushed as she said it, not comfortable with her own lie.

The attacker gave her a deeply suspicious look. His eyes were almost black, with thick heavy eyebrows. The scars on his face curled up his cheek like brambles or grasping claws.

"Where're you from?" Staccato demand.

"I'm--..." She couldn't finish. Where would sound innocent?

"Leave her alone!" Rumiko said, suddenly sure Rinku would get herself killed by lying badly.

"How'd she get here, then, Nara?" Kenta had caught on to a secret, he'd pursue it with suspicion.

"...On the train!" Rumiko blurted. It was an inane lie, so she whispered random made-up details as if to make it better. Neither girl coped well with panic. "She came from Honomura, she's my second cousin twice removed. She arrived last week."

"I doubt it." The attacker was still glaring at Rinku, not seeming to have any interest in his hostage. Maybe he'd find out why the second girl was significant by sustained staring.

She just cowered more. She was crying now.

"Fine. Now _you,"_ addressing Rinku, "tell me where Nara Shikamaru. Or I'll kill your '_second cousin'_."

"... He went into Konoha. To meet his sensei." Rinku hoped lying about an adult's presence might deter him.

Kenta's glare turned flat, even thoughtful.

"You know, I think... it was the host-kid who found you." He advanced on Rinku, voice suddenly animated instead of flatly menacing. "So you're fucking well here 'cause you're a jinchuuriki as well!"

Appalling silence.

Rinku's lips were white, her mouth a flat line, her body pressed back into the door away from Kenta. She shook her head slightly, knuckles bloodless clutching the kunai.

Kenta was four feet away, and Rumiko tried to struggle. The Nara daughter's eyes were dark and desperate, made to look bigger because the short fuzz of hair the girl had left made her face vulnerable. Rinku felt anger through her terror.

"Are you?!" Kenta shouted in her face.

Rinku didn't know.

He raised the kunai. Brought the blade towards Rumiko's eye.

_I don't know!_

Everyone seemed to think she was.

"Yes." Rumiko told him, voice hoarse and hardly audible. "She is."

And Kenta threw his hostage to one side, eyes triumphant.


	23. Activity

It was barely ten minutes after Shikamaru had finished describing Makuro Makoto to his friends that he, Ino and Chouji reached the cripple's room in the old building. The aged man surveyed them calmly, resting his chin on a hand.

"Makuro-san," Shikamaru said, feeling certain he wouldn't like the answer, "Why did your brother leave Konoha?"

* * *

Rinku's ears couldn't process what she'd just heard. Rumiko had thrown her to the wolves, after all the sympathy she'd offered. _She is_, Rumiko had told Kenta. She is a jinchuuriki.

Kenta advanced; eyes black and merciless in an angry face. The teenage refugee backed away against the wall, glancing around: the corridor was long and straight, if she could make it to the back door... But the scarred ninja moved far faster than her. He caught her upper arm in a vice-like grip and stopped her.

"The Nara bastard's picking up strays, then."

His fingers cut into her flesh. She dropped the kunai.

The demon-host was a civilian and weak, and Kenta smirked. He twisted her around to face him, then slammed her against the wall. Rinku slid down it; black and silver stars grew and swarmed around in front of her eyes, and she'd never felt more helpless. This man's implacable violence was as terrifying as knowing her only ally here had betrayed her.

"That's well and good: I can test this on you." He said with grim humour, "Stay _still_."

* * *

Makoto covered his eyes with his hand with a deep sigh. The gesture infuriated Shikamaru: _whatever's wrong, just tell us. Get on with it._

"Sandaime... told my brother the one thing that he thought would stop Kenta from continuing his senseless attacks."

Ino's eyes were round with curiosity. Chouji was standing close behind Shikamaru, silently offering support to his friend. The Akimichi had noticed Shikamaru's reluctance to suspect Makoto, even as he'd agreed with Ino that the cryptic man was not telling the whole story. Shikamaru wished he hadn't been so illogically trusting. How big a blind spot did this make in his analytical capacities?

He couldn't even bring himself to guess at what this secret the Makuro family had kept was. He'd find out soon enough. Makoto, his alert eyes watching each of the three genin in turn, carried on speaking:

"The Yondaime Hokage's life work was researching seals. No-one knew more than him about what they made possible, about the ways they could allow mere mortals such as ourselves to defeat creatures like the Youkai. But even he, the foremost living expert on fuuinjutsu, only knew one way of sealing a demon and its youki for ever."

Shikamaru touched the seal on his stomach.

"And when it came to it, he didn't use it."

* * *

Kenta pulled the scroll off his back.

But as Rinku had crumpled again the wall, winded, she'd seen something, and it had offered her a bright spark of hope. Rumiko had crept up straight behind the scarred Kenta, and the Nara girl was holding a belt pouch of kunai and shuriken.

Shikamaru's sister was angry. She hadn't meant to make that confession on behalf of their guest (without thinking it through or even knowing whether it was true), she'd said it under the all-consuming panic of that moment, trapped in Kenta's grip. She was a coward. She hadn't been able to stand up under his scrutiny, and she'd betrayed someone helpless.

She felt humiliated and she felt furious, and needed to make things right.

So as Rinku crouched, white-faced, and Kenta took a step back in preparation for his ritual, balancing a scroll two feet long in the crook of his elbow and making the first of a series of seals, Rumiko attacked: three kunai flew straight in the air, aimed for the invader's spine.

* * *

"What?!"

"But, the Kyuubi is sealed!"

"So it is," Makoto agreed. "But not, you see, forever. When you die, Shikamaru, the kitsune will be free once more."

Ino and Chouji turn to look at him. Shikamaru shrunk back from the old man's desk, from the lined face with intelligent eyes. This knowledge challenged fundamental pieces of how he understood of life, of how he decided what he should do. The fox had suddenly become a threat, a catastrophe lying in wait. (And something the Kyuubi had said when they spoke during the fight with Gaara came back: _Your life-span won't vary much either way, so the outcome means little to me._ He shuddered.)

But Makuro Makoto continued: "It is trapped by your chakra. In a normal state of affairs, the demon's youki would overwhelm your own in a second. With fuuinjutsu, though, your chakra system is _crafted_, made into a perfect cage, and as long as you live, you will keep the kyuubi contained."

"But, why couldn't he seal the demon forever?" Ino planted her hands on Makoto's desk, white-faced.

"My brother asked the Sandaime that, too. It _is _worrying when our conquering heroes do not manage to truly vanquish their foes, is it not?" (Shikamaru, still shaken, felt a kind of indignant affection for the man – he didn't want to have to think about the situation seriously, and Makoto was speaking lightly) "There is a seal to do such a thing, to consign the fox's spirit and power to the hands of the Shinigami, the death god. But – you see, there is always a catch with such things - _that_ seal would require the caster's life as payment."

Silence.

"He did die, though." Chouji, quietly.

"Yondaime was mortally wounded fighting the Kyuubi." Makoto's face had turned grim again, and the expression aged it by ten years. "But he'd hoped to live. His wife was seven months pregnant: I don't imagine there's any time in a man's life when he has more to live for.

"Maybe you, Nara, can blame him for choosing to hold on to his own life instead of securing the village's safety more permanently; because of the burden you live with, you have that prerogative. But the rest of us _don't_. What should come first in our hearts: responsibility for the village, or the promises we make to our loved ones? That is something we have to decide ourselves, and I doubt Yondaime-sama took that decision lightly. The village has no right to condemn the Fourth Hokage for what he decided when he was caught between sacrificing two things he loved. In that situation, no-one can blame a man for what he decides. I doubt even my brother would speak against that."

_Skies_, Shikamaru thought, mind ignoring that speech in favour of the horrible fact that caused it. _Naruto._

And his heart kinda broke then, remembering all the years of questions his blond friend had wanted to ask. About his father the hero, about things no-one could answer. In the end, Yondaime had wanted to live, after all.

* * *

Kenta spun round shouting, changing his hold on the scroll and batting the kunai away with it. They hit the wall in a neat diagonal line, leaving him crouched with one hand holding each end of the rolled-up document (it seemed unscathed), and from that position he immediately leapt, swinging the scroll at Rumiko. She blocked it with one arm but was driven back, grimacing (her stance was all wrong, and her body weak after neglected training). He laughed, low and cruel.

"So you really are something of an ally to the girl?"

He slotted the scroll back into the holder on his back, drew his serrated knife again.

Rumiko's face paled, but her eyes narrowed and she held her ground.

Rinku had pulled herself up on her hands and knees when Kenta turned his back, and while her eyes had been fixed on the fight between the two she'd picked the kunai she'd dropped earlier up. She had an obligation to the Nara family as their guest. She had her pride: she was going to stop being a victim. And... the idea of cowering while this exiled shinobi 'tested' this malevolent plan of his on her was a horrible prospect: she felt, like a rat in a corner, the need to struggle and fight back.

Adrenaline and all these separate motives bore her up, and as Kenta assessed Rumiko with the predatory eye of a well-trained shinobi, the run-away girl stood up.

Neither combatent noticed: Kenta threw two kunai, and Rumiko ducked into a room (her bedroom, actually) to dodge; the hall was dangerously confined. But there was no second exit from here, and Rumiko had forgotten this important ninja law: never get backed into corners. Kenta stalked forward and blocked the doorway: his target was clearly a failed student, he'd beat her easily enough with just taijutsu.

Rumiko glanced around and made a hasty plan. As Kenta entered the room, she took hold of the door to her wardrobe and flung it open in his face, then strained herself toppling the item of furniture over onto him. How full of old clothes was it, how many odds and ends had piled up on top of it? Pretty often, and lots of them. It paid off now: Kenta was momentarily buried under a cascade of old nail varnish and scarves, and he had to shove the wardrobe forward to remove it. It lay between them, the side staved in, in a clutter of debris. Kenta stood up straight again, lips drawn back and eyes narrowed.

He wasn't really hurt or disadvantaged, though. Rumiko felt hunted. And he swept debris aside, upending the next piece of furniture in the room at her - her desk – and charged forward himself. She backed to one side, eyes on the window that stood above her bed. It was large enough to escape from, if she could jump to her bed, break the glass, and get outside in time.

But he predicted that and used a katon jutsu ahead of her, stopping her in her tracks. It hit the dream-catcher hanging from the window-frame, and that fell down onto her bed. She'd dodged in time, but she'd been manoeuvred away from her destination. And he was now only a foot from her, eyes black and reflecting flames, and everything was going wrong. She realised she'd forgotten her taijutsu stance, and there was no way out.

But she still dodged his sudden slash with the knife and drew a handful of shuriken. She'd have kept fighting on, only he vanished, and as she spun to see-

-The attack came from behind. A kick sent her across the room, smashing into the ruins of her own wardrobe. She heard it splinter and, distantly, she thought: _he used kawarimi no jutsu._

And Rinku cried out. There was blood on Rumiko's face.

* * *

In Matoko's small room, a strange kind of silence reigned. There were a lot of thoughts in the air, and words that would be welcome in such a thick atmosphere were hard to think of.

"So..." it was Chouji who spoke, at last. "Kenta left because if he killed Shikamaru, he'd release the demon fox?"

Makoto nodded.

"In that case, he was looking for a way to trap the fox permanently or to kill it." Shikamaru concluded, dull-voice and feeling distant from the situation.

Makoto nodded again. This time, there was something very grave about the movement. The Nara felt his skin crawl. The ominous thoughts, the sense of danger, it came from this. The next logical step came all too easily.

"And he's found one."

Makoto's voice was hoarse when he spoke: "That's right."

* * *

There was blood on Rumiko's face. She was lying on one side, neck tilted at an unhealthy angle against the wardrobe, still. Rinku took in the scene and she suddenly furious. This man, the men who'd chased her, those who'd kidnapped Rumiko; they all ought to die. They destroyed everything.

As Kenta put one hand on the scroll on his back, turning his brutal face towards his next target, Rinku met his eyes. It wasn't hard to do. No sense of her own weakness, no fear, came into her mind: it was all blank. Rumiko lay between the two, and they stood as still as she was for a second. But Rinku's mind was active: a storm brewed there.

Broken furniture and general disarray made the room an uneven terrain, and it was slowly filling with smoke. Rumiko's bedspread was smoldering, flames beginning to lick at it. But these things were peripheral: Rinku wanted Kenta gone from here and she would make him leave. She moved forwards, face set. He kept still, watching her with intense eyes and hands that clenched and unclenched; one around his knife's hilt, the other at his hip on the scroll. He was ready for a fight.

And Rumiko was hurt. The Nara girl was trying to move a hand, shudders running through her. The other girl felt relieved she was still conscious, but at the same time, the fact she was clearly in pain added to Rinku's anger.

"So." Kenta said, grinning like a shark, "You're wanting your turn to fight?"

He swung the scroll forward, settling into a stance.

"Too bad. I don't feel like playing around wi' you."

Partly it was because the house was catching fire. Mostly, he'd come here for a reason.

He made the first in that long series of hand signs.

And she screamed out and charged, leaping across the floor with its broken furniture. Kenta had to use kawarimi to dodge; turning to look from the doorway, he saw the wall behind where he had been was left with a deep gouge in it. Powerful chakra flooded the air, and he didn't delay: he got out into the hallway, slamming the door after him. He'd seen Rinku: unnatural purple-lit eyes, teeth bared, nothing human in her appearance. He retreated, heart hammering. Part of him was whimpering with the instinct to run; the part that had decided to destroy the demon fox insisted he should stand and fight. The demon should be sealed. He shouldn't be scared: he had a mission of revenge.

But before he could make up his mind, the door behind him splintered, along with most of the wall. A demonic aura had enveloped Rinku, white and purple, blurring her features and elongating her face: the demon-form had upright ears and the human girl's hair streamed back, looking like a mane. As Kenta looked back, paralysed, she charged again.

* * *

And Shikamaru ran, leaving Ino and Chouji behind. He sensed demonic energy, youki. Kenta had come back to town hunting the kyuubi's host, logically he'd go to the Nara house and Rumiko and Rinku were there. They could neither of them fight, and Rinku fighting as a jinchuuriki would be dangerous for everyone concerned.

He raced back with a fox-fire trail, running heedlessly through the centre of Konoha.

* * *

Rumiko lifted herself upright, wincing with the pain. She was choking in the smoky room, and she rather thought she was concussed. Everything hurt. But she gritted her teeth and choked back a cry when she put her weight on a maybe-sprained ankle. And limped out of what had formerly been a door to see if the fight continued.

The hallway was wrecked: scorched walls, and a hole opening on to the field outside. And...

Someone was in the hallway, casually observing the fight. Uchiha Itachi.

He looked round at her. Instinctive animal fear shot up her spine.

"I apologise for the damage to your house, Nara-kun." Itachi could not have sounded more civil. It was terrifying. "Kisame."

At this monotone cue, Kisame appeared from behind her. How could someone so large move that silently? Rumiko... half-slumped, feeling for the second time that day that her brain couldn't handle such a long-sustained crisis. She wanted it all to stop.

But Kisame, as if he'd never kidnapped her and slaughtered a caravan of innocent strangers, took her arm and politely conducted her to Itachi's side.

Outside on the field, the deer had fled. Kenta was trying to do the same: on the defensive, he was constantly evading attacks. As Rumiko watched, Rinku reached out a hand and gathered youki around it, swirling blue-grey and white. She threw it outwards, and it sank into the ground in front of Kenta with a hiss. Kenta stepped backwards, wary. Then, suddenly, the ground erupted, splitting and emitting a wave that rose up with the force of a tsunami and swept Kenta up. Rinku advanced behind it, inexorable. She was standing upright, skin and clothes darkened by the swirling aura covering them. The two tails growing out from this chakra streamed out behind her, made of glowing white filaments that knitted together the dancing greys and blues and purples.

Kisame, on the other side of Rumiko to Itachi (and didn't that arrangement make her want to huddle in a ball and give up any attempts to better the situation?), gave his colleague a questioning look. Itachi met his eyes, than considered Rumiko.

He leant against the wall and addressed her. "The tailed beast sealed into that girl, do you know anything of it?"

Rumiko shook her head. Her throat was dry, and she couldn't imagine speaking to the Uchiha, ever.

"I believe it to be the Shichibi, the seven-tailed beast." Itachi didn't seem bothered by her reticence. "Shichibi no Ekitako, the demon horse. It that holds as its domain the seven seas."

"Makes sense." Kisame contributed, "Given that attack."

Rumiko was too concentrated on the members of Akatsuki beside her to really watch Rinku fight. That was kind of a good thing, she was sure she'd be incredibly scared of the demon if the Akatsuki weren't providing a more immediate cause for concern. But while the two missing-nin had been talking, Kenta had picked himself up and the exiled ninja now cast a series of fire jutsu, only for them to be repelled by stormy-coloured chakra that Rinku sent orbiting out from the main body of it around her. These enveloped his attacks and dissolved them. However, the jinchuuriki had stood still to maintain them, and Kenta took advantage of this: he ran, aiming for escape into the woods.

Rinku stood still, tensing herself to run after him, but a tripwire triggered as soon as she set off, igniting a series of explosive tags. She snarled and looked around for their cause, tossing her mane of hair, tails flaring up. She turned back, and he'd gone.

"In targeting her, Kenta misjudged." Itachi said. "His scheme could well have complicated things for us, so we've been following his movements. But little Shikamaru is cleverer than him, and now that he's tipped his hand, he won't be much of a threat to your brother."

"Not like we are." Kisame favoured Rumiko with a horrible grim.

"However, this Makuro's research has been most enlightening. He's a horribly ignorant man himself, but Akatsuki will make good use of what he's uncovered."

"S'right. That idiot didn't think there was more than one seal to trap a demon."

Rumiko looked up at him. She didn't know anything about this, and it sounded important. Itachi elaborated, sounding bored.

"From what we've seen, this girl Rinku is bound by different seals than your brother is. Most probably, it is the _shiki fuuin_ that contains the bijuu inside her, and since the jutsu that man is trying to use is designed to counter another seal, the results of it would be unpredictable. And not to the demon's advantage."

"They might have been an advantage for us." Kisame said.

"Seeing the bijuu in action was a better one, tactically."

They all three looked out at the field again. Rumiko was moving towards the forest. Only – there was a second demonic chakra, fainter, but moving in.

"Fox-brat's coming," Kisame told his partner. He picked at his teeth with a sharp fingernail. "You're gonna say we have to go now, right?"

Itachi nodded briefly, eyebrows narrowed.

Rumiko shuffled away from them, trying to be inconspicuous and not put weight on one foot at the same time. Not a challenge she could excel at in her current state, really.

Itachi turned jet-black eyes to her, calculating. She was injured; carrying her would slow them down considerably. Her brother was near and the fight that would have distracted him had drawn to a close: the risk of two jinchuuriki attacking in synchrony was greater than Rumiko's value as a hostage. Leaving the Nara girl behind, the two Akatsuki left as silently as they'd come.

* * *

...Shikamaru didn't appear silently. He was running fast enough he scored tracks into the grass when he stopped, some twenty feet away from Rinku. The other jinchuuriki turned, evaluating him without showing any recognition. Kenta had got away, and she was searching for enemies. Shikamaru's attention was split: where was Rumiko?

Rinku sniffed at him, eyebrows lowered. The Kyuubi's host raised his hands in an expression of surrender. If seeing Gaara influenced by a demon had been unnerving and scary, seeing this previously harmless teenager in the same state had to be more so. Rinku's eyes were glazed and bright, the irises black-purple and the pupils silvery; her skin looked blue-grey and seemed to ripple as youki moved over it. The diamond shape between her eyes was bright white.

Her face showed no recognition of him.

"Rinku, he got away. Kenta's gone." The genin had caught sight of him making his getaway, but he'd prioritised finding the two girls.

She shifted backwards.

"Where's my sister, Rinku?"

The question sparked off a series of thoughts in Rinku's head. Sister... she recognised the word. It was relevant in a way the rest of the fox's talking wasn't. It meant – it meant – it meant – a full round face with the mouth open and blood running down from it – it meant a laughing sympathetic voice, and a hand unsteady trying to move and anger and sympathy and guilt.

"Rinku, can you understand me?" That name was her name. She was Rinku. Rinkurinkurinku-- what was she doing here? Fighting, the images – the last few minutes – it seemed impossible and...

... "Rumiko's hurt." She said, speaking suddenly and almost involuntarily. It was like waking up with a start: she hadn't been consciously aware of that until she'd said it, and as soon as she did, it jolted all kind of other facts into her head. Kenta had wanted _her_ and Rumiko had been defending _her_. She'd watched and not known what she could do to help while Kenta hunted Rumiko down and kicked and smashed her like she'd shatter against the floor.

And then she'd fought him. There was a dreamlike quality to it: the images seemed to come from further away than the last five minutes; while she remembered how vivid the experience had been, it seemed distant now. She couldn't understand how or why she'd done what she had ,and it didn't seem quite real any more.

Shikamaru put his hands on her shoulders, and she realised she was unsteady. He was waiting to hear something from her.

"She's in the house, in her bedroom. Kenta broke... broke the room up, and he hurt her. But I think she's okay, I saw her move, I think..."

Shikamaru felt kind of worried about Rinku. Her voice was quiet, rapid, shaky. And now the youki around her had dissipated, she was also very pale. So he kept a hand on her shoulder, (although she was inconveniently taller than him,) and he murmured: it's okay.

He hoped so, anyway, and as they walked up together to the damaged house, they saw Rumiko outside, leaning her weight against the doorway: maybe it would be. The deer had broken down a fence in to run away, and they spread across the hill behind the two jinchuuriki; and Chouji and Ino, only now reaching sight of the Nara domain, saw what Shikamaru had missed: smoke billowing from a cracked window in the old family home. But despite all the problems, despite Akatsuki and Makuro Kenta and secrets about the fox, they were all still alive.

* * *

Note about the seventailed demon: Shichibi no Ekitako, a horse from the sea (not, however, a sea-horse). The name Ekitako isn't at all authentic - it's just from the latin for horse - _equus_ - messed around to sound more Japanese. But as fanon bijuu go, I'd rather be somewhat original than follow bland hints on forums.

Next chapter will include: Jiraiya, Kankuro, Temari and Gaara. Travelling together. Entirely for comic relief. Other than that, it promises to involve Tsunade, Yoshino (going: "holyfxqk, what happened to the house") and more Makuro siblings, along with the town council. Yup, more political plotting. Whether or not I'll have room for Naruto and Team-Seven-yness there too I'm not sure. But the News Of Itachi is impending, along with me having to write Sasuke. I'd really rather be cruel to him than I would be Rumiko, who for some reason keeps getting victimised by my plots, so that's good.

I'd love some reviews, by the way :)


	24. Afterwards

Sorry for failing to write much soon. Real life's just been _fun_ lately, what with parties and people leaving and buying stuff for University...

Anyways, a brief synopsis of the last chapter: Kenta came to the Nara house, but Naruto and Shikamaru had just left: since Shikaku was out spying, and Yoshino in town, that left only Rumiko and Rinku there. On confronting the girls, Kenta found out Rinku was a demon-host, and he attacked the girls: he's obtained a scroll that will remove a demon from one seal and transfer it to another, and was planning to try it out on the poor jinchuuriki. Just as Rinku snapped and fought back with demon energy, the Akatsuki appeared on the scene: Itachi told Rumiko the demon in Rinku was the seven-tailed horse, Ekitako. Meanwhile, though, Team Ten had gone to visit Kenta's brother Makoto: the old man told them why Kenta had left Konoha, and found out that the seal keeping the Kyuubi locked up will release the demon when he dies.

Shikamaru and Co get cut off then, because they sense the release of youki over at the Nara house. Naturally, they run off to see what's happened; Rinku's fighting Kenta, but he losing, and he runs. The Akatsuki also vanish promptly, leaving Ino, Chouji, Shikamaru, Rumiko and Rinku alone. Oh, and, the house is on fire.

* * *

Chapter 24.

* * *

Kenta ran terrified away into the woods, dashing across treetops until the chakra burns down his body made him give in to exhaustion. He dropped down to the ground, then, and walked staggering along. The shade in the woods was nice – calming, as much as anything could be - and the gentle breeze helped reduce the tremors in his body. There was sweat dripping down into his eyes, his legs felt loose like jelly. His hands were white and bloodless, even when he'd unclenched them.

The demon in a human form. Who'd have thought it could be so fucking terrifying.

He'd faced the Kyuubi's chakra when the fox smashed Konoha. Back then, he'd stayed strong. There'd been people to defend and people watching out for him; however many had broken and ran, there'd been shinobi to stand by, who were taking on the monster with you, who were sharing their resolve and helping with the terror. And that kind of camaraderie helped a lot, during a disaster. This – this'd been him standing alone.

He shouldn't have done it. His pulse wasn't so loud in his ears now; now, the sweat running down his body had cooled. The breeze and the shadows in the wood were less welcome: he was shaking still, even more violently.

Adiurat had just been so bullheaded about it all. The blind old bastard had his own plans, and Kenta'd wanted to make the first move. He'd thought he _had_ to do it now. And well, he'd fucked up. He'd been given a chance to set things right and he'd screwed it the hell up. Going after the girl had been dumb, cocky, impatient, fuckwittedly stupid. Now the game was up and the fox and his bitch of a sister and that sky-cursed girl host would be on guard and his chances were shot.

And-

Someone was watching him.

In the dappled shade of the forest, Kisame and Itachi didn't have any trouble at all taking Kenta's scroll. And no-one was a witness to it.

* * *

Tsunade and Shizune dashed the last few miles to Konoha: there was demonic chakra in the air. It seemed like Jiraiya hadn't been kidding about Akatsuki after all. Not that Tsunade'd though he would be, but it was alarming all the same.

There was no-one on guard at the village gates. She and Shizune entered unchallenged, and were faced with villagers standing aimlessly in the streets, scared and angry and questioning. That nerve-racking youki aura had died down, leaving the common folk of Konoha with fearful eyes and Tsunade's poor deear pet terrified. It left the sannin herself with the impression a power other than the Kyuubi's had been responsible. This wasn't the demon fox, it was something less familiar, and that changed matters.

But then, Jiraiya_ had_ mentioned more than one demon-host. All Tsunade could do was hope this unknown factor worked to their advantage. And that the village Council hadn't found much out about this unfortunate new jinchuuriki.

Her hopes sank as they moved into Konoha centre: down the street from the two new arrivals, a man with a Nara-like pony-tail and a walking stick was shouting at an officious silver-haired councilor. A group was crowding around the two men, all with their own opinions. As Tsunade stepped in, one woman was shrieking something about demon-spawn.

"Gentlemen."

She introduced herself. Years of medical practice had given her a calm steely voice that could cut through any interruptions, and she made good use of it to broadcast her name and her intentions. There was silence, and the group turned to her.

And bowed, respectful. For once, she was thankful for her heritage.

It didn't work unconditionally, though: the silverhaired man, introducing himself as Councilman Aduirat, politely informed her that her assistance was unecessary in these matters.

She moved towards him. She flicked him in the chest, with a single finger. She felt that she was better qualified to fight demons than he was, thank you anyway.

And then she turned her formidable attention to the man who'd argued with Aduirat: the Nara jounin's face was studiedly blank. The ponytailed man offered to help her ascertain the causes of this disturbance, sounding very slightly urgent.

He and his wife followed her, and a straggling group of bystanders went with them. All in all, Tsunade felt pretty proud of her diplomatic skills.

* * *

Shikamaru and Chouji had escorted Rumiko out of the ruined house, one on either side like a pair of guards. They came back to where Ino and Rinku stood, the kunoichi's hands on the other girl's shoulders. The five youngsters stood silently together, all shaken.

Shikamaru, red eyes skipping between the chaotic field, the burning home, and his friends.

Ino, looking between the two older girls and concerned for both of them (the need to learn to defend herself grew in the kunoichi's mind).

Chouji, watching his best friend, thinking back to the interview with Makuro Makoto.

Rumiko, feeling horribly dizzy from the blow to the head she'd received, tossing up the dangers that the Akatsuki and Kenta presented respectively.

Rinku, starting to believe in demons and jinchuuriki, felt newly scared.

They had nothing to say to each other, and they had too much to say to themselves. So silence stretched out, Rumiko putting her hands over her face, sinking down until she was kneeling on the ground. The others looking at her. Shikamaru crouching and putting hands on her shoulders. The wind blowing smoke from the burning house towards them.

The others stood awkwardly. Aware of clouds gathering in the sky. Aware of the home that was destroying itself, but not moving towards it to help. But all at once, Shikamaru spun and as he turned rose upright, alert and facing the path from the village. The other children followed his eyes, seeing nothing for a minute until a blonde woman came into view on the trail. Behind her, they recognised Yoshino and Shikaku, and a flock of villagers following this trio.

* * *

Jiraiya was enjoying travelling, for once. It was a nice time of year to move between Sand and Fire country, and he was enjoying riding in a cart and the effort-free journey that vehicle bought. It gives you so much freedom to look around, and to doze: the day was warm; the mist that had covered the ground at sunrise as they'd set off having all burned, and the stillness of the morning had given way to a pleasant afternoon, with long shadows following the four travellers and marking out hills in the rolling countryside.

Jiraiya liked nature: he smoked his pipe as he observed it, thinking it pleasant that he could sit so peacefully with these three genin. Kankurou was working beside him, carefully assembling newly cleaned puppet mechanisms, and the boy's unpainted face looked at once serious and young. Temari had her hands folded over her fan as she walked, and was looking between her brothers. The sannin wondered what she made of Gaara: the young Kazekage's eyes were following a bird circling in the sky, his face was blank.

And when staying quiet got old, they also did a good line in bickering banter.

It was generally Kankurou who set it off: he'd been sitting crosslegged in the back of the cart with mechanisms for Karasu laid out around him for the whole journey, and when cleaning joints got boring, he'd stick his head out to address the his older sister and younger brother. Both those two had chosen to walk alongside the vehicle; it wasn't obvious why. The middle child, talking to them, came back to the same grievance every time.

"I don't care if you two forgive them, they broke my Karasu. Even the fact that kid Naruto slapped Gaara doesn't make up for that."

"You've gotten it functional again already, though, 'Kuro. Besides, you _like_ rebuilding your dollies."

The puppeteer turned his back on his sister, clearly indicating he was not going to rise to that bait. She smirked and tilted her head upwards to inform Jiraiya (the hermit had made it clear age gave him the right to ride in the cart), in a sing-song voice of the kind only ever found in playgrounds, "Kankuro pla-ays with do-llies..."

The aforesaid brother gave Jiraiya a weary look, hoping for solidarity against the female gender. Jiraiya shrugged. The youngest sibling turned to Temari, looking perhaps just the slightest bit amused.

Temari smirked as Jiraiya met her gaze, then hummed: do-llies.

And Kankuro snapped:

"Te-ma-ri, the word is "puppet". Pu—ppet. It has two syllables, it's pretty easy to remember. Two, new techniques and new parts are good. Replacing splintered joints is not. At all. And-"

And at about this time, Temari's laughter told him he'd risen to the bait. He'd look at his brother, and see Gaara smirking in a way entirely new to him.

He'd look crestfallen, then, utterly betrayed. Jiraiya grinned.

Cute kids.

* * *

"So."

Tsunade folded her hands together, elbows resting on the Hokage's desk. Shikamaru scratched behind his ear, shifting his weight. Ino cleared her throat. She looked at her team-mate, not wanting to speak first.

"An exiled member of this village was responsible for the attack." Shikamaru's voice was terse. "Makuro Kenta."

Tsunade's gaze became more intent. Shikamaru spoke on: he had one chance to impress the woman who'd taken over from the council, and he knew this was it. If he convinced her he was honest and sensible and a good ninja, she'd be able to protect the Nara family. If not, he'd become an easy victim.

So he talked: in a low, serious voice, he explained Kenta's hatred of the Kyuubi, the reasons behind that anger, the cryptic behaviour of Kenta's brother Makoto. He explained, very quietly and with as cold an attempt at logic as he could, what Kenta had been told about the seal imprisoning the demon fox, why that had driven him to leave, and what the implications of his return were.

He didn't want to talk about it: the thought of the demon imprisoned within him had scared him before today, and now, that fear had been magnified. It'd been foolish to think the seal would last after his chakra system faded, but he'd never wondered what would happen to it when he died. It'd have been neater if the demon would be taken out of the world along with him when he died. He didn't like knowing that wouldn't happen: fear sat heavily in his stomach through all the interview with Tsunade, and he felt very clumsy, very young, when he tried to confront it.

Rumiko and Rinku had been taken to the hospital; Yoshino and Chouji had escorted them there, concerned about the villagers' likely behaviour. Shikamaru was the only one in a position to address the Hokage, though – Ino didn't have the right attitude or the right knowledge to speak to the new Kage, and his father didn't know the whole story, or even most of it.

So Ino was standing by him but looking off to the side, hands and posture betraying her tension. She'd looked at the blonde sannin and tensed up and Shikamaru knew there was going to be some kind of feminine critiquing going on later, of dress sense and pigs as accessories and bust size. It made him grin, for a brief second. And his other supporter lifted his spirits, too: Shikaku stood to the other side of Shikamaru, leaning on his cane, alert, eyes on his son.

"So tell me," Tsunade said once he'd explained his position and Kenta's psychotic rationale, "Why this Rinku individual was present at your home."

Shikamaru grimaced. But he'd speak on.

* * *

Rinku had been put on a bed by Rumiko's, and she was copying the posture the Nara girl had used earlier: she had her hands over her eyes, blocking out the light. Her back was against the wall, her knees were raised protectively, her arms curled around around them to bring the palms of her hands over her face. Light hurt her eyes; it made crawling patterns of black-red-purple block out her vision. She kept thinking she could see things in the shapes, too: animals and monsters and demons. She was worried she was going crazy, and the sound of her heartbeat and the clattering and muttering of the hospital wasn't helping.

The nurses had left her alone. They'd given her a wide berth, just chucking wide-eyed looks back as she followed Rumiko and the medic who was treating her. She thought she'd heard them discussing her: just fragments of sentences, but the tone of the conversation made her shudder and piecing together what she'd overheard was worse.

She wanted Shikamaru and his family to be here, or to wake up. A ninja dressed as a healer had drawn something on Rumiko's forehead with a salve, then formed hand seals and lit the pattern she'd written in medicine up with glowing blue light, letting it sink into the Nara patient's skin. Rumiko had still been awake at that point, lying with carefully close eyes and hands clutching the bed covers to keep herself still. She'd gone limp, unconcious or asleep but hopefully recovering.

Rinku really, really wanted to talk to someone. Keeping her eyes shut made then hurt, and it amplified all the sounds and smells of the hospital: someone was crying, somewhere nearby. Someone ran down a corridor. A trolley clattered.

The door opened.

And a silver-haired man walked in.


End file.
